


Before the Dawn

by rachlovesligers



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Winter Soldier Peggy Carter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-29
Updated: 2018-06-16
Packaged: 2019-03-11 05:26:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 34,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13517502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rachlovesligers/pseuds/rachlovesligers
Summary: Steve’s been trying to live his life as best he can since losing Peggy six years ago. He’s not happy, but he’s coping, until the SSR sends him after the Winter Soldier, and he recognises her piercing brown eyes.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> _It's always darkest before the dawn._
> 
>  
> 
> Thanks to Ani (blackbatpurplecat/caleysteggy) for all your help and encouragement with this.
> 
> This work is complete, so I should hopefully be updating regularly.

“To Peggy,” the commandos cheered, raising their glasses in unison.

 

It was six years to the day.

 

Steve took a sip of his drink, as his team did the same. It was only sombre for a moment, there were pats on the back, a firm hand on his shoulder, then Dugan erupted into a thrilling tale about Peggy.

 

Steve was half listening, he’d heard all the stories so many times before. It helped, to be able to talk about her, to celebrate her. As the years passed there seemed fewer opportunities for that, there was an expectation to keep moving forward.

 

He often wished her grave was nearby, he’d only been to it once. But it was in Hampshire, next to her brother’s, and she wasn’t there anyhow. They’d never recovered her.

 

“And then I found her, three bottles of whiskey stuffed in her waistband, that she’d commandeered from the Lieutenant General, no less!” Dugan slapped his knee as he recalled the story. “She’d had to scale the wall to get to his quarters, on the _third_ floor!”

 

* * *

 

 

At the bar Morita found him, giving his shoulder a squeeze.

 

“You holding up, Cap?”

 

Steve nodded, finishing off his drink. He nodded to the bartender and bought a round for the two of them. They sat in silence for a while, surrounded by the raucous noise of the team.

 

“You know Molly’s got this friend,” Morita said after a while, “real smart, pretty, looking to settle down.”

 

Steve waited, guessing where he was headed.

 

“I think the two of you would get along, if you’re interested I can –”

 

Steve shook his head. “Thanks, really, but I’m not looking for anything like that.”

 

Morita sighed, looking at him sympathetically.

 

“She’d want you to be happy.”

 

“I am happy.” Steve tried to ignore the sinking feeling in his gut.

 

Morita didn’t look convinced. He clapped Steve on the back, offering him a smile.

 

“Alright, but if you ever change your mind, you know where to find me.”

 

* * *

 

It was late when Steve got back to his apartment. It was cold, as usual. He shrugged out of his shoes and jacket, and fell into bed.

 

As much as he loved seeing the rest of the team, it always served to remind him how different his life might’ve been. Most of them were married by now, some even had kids. The active portion of the team was thinning, he only saw them all together on anniversaries and at Christmas.

 

They still went on missions, taking jobs for various government and private organisations, but as the team dwindled the work became less frequent. Steve had mostly carried on with them to fill the time around his job at the SSR. He liked to keep busy.

 

* * *

 

The office was buzzing with activity. It had been that way since Chief Dooley’s murder, Thompson threw his weight around, trying to look busy now that he’d taken the position, but Steve knew there wasn’t a lot for him to do.

 

Thompson had declared weeks ago that their sole focus was searching for the person responsible for killing the Chief, all resources were to be dedicated to it. But they had no real leads, no solid intel about her identity, half the department questioned whether it even was a _her_ , it was a disaster.

 

Steve just came in, did his hours, and tried not to let anyone piss him off too much. Which was a hell of a lot harder now that Thompson was technically his boss.

 

They’d actually offered him the position first, but he’d turned it down. He didn’t need the responsibility of people’s lives resting on his leadership. He didn’t want another death on his hands.

 

“Conference room, now,” Thompson barked. He got off on ordering people around.

 

The table of the conference room was covered in the scraps of information they did have. Blurry photos depicting a shadowy figure, witness accounts, details of how the Chief and his wife had been found in their car. When the room was full Thompson cleared his throat, silencing the room.

 

“I know we’ve all been working tirelessly on this case, and I want you to know I’m taking my hard-earned position as Chief very seriously.”

 

Steve snorted. Thompson pretended not to notice.

 

“It’s our lives on the line here. The SSR was deliberately targeted, and I will stop at nothing until the Winter Soldier has a noose around her neck.”

 

There were murmurs of support from around the room.

 

The Winter Soldier had got her name from the press, after a fuckup on Thompson’s watch had led to information from her record being leaked. She was a human weapon, created in the depth of a Russian winter, if you believed the papers.

 

Thompson gave some spiel about attacking her from every angle, and paired up various agents, giving them each a location to stake out. Steve didn’t relish the idea of sitting in a parked car with one of his colleagues for an undecided number of hours, but at least it was a change of scenery.

 

He was paired with Agent Yauch, a young and eager new agent. Their location was a fancy apartment building in the Upper East Side that housed a General. One of the Winter Soldier’s possible next targets, according to Thompson. Pulling up across the street, Steve turned the off engine and pulled out his sketchpad and pencil.

 

“So, do you think the rumours are true?”

 

Steve sighed, turning reluctantly to face Yauch.

 

“Rumours?”

 

“Yeah, the rumours that she’s a knockout. Krzeminski swears his caught a glimpse of her when they were staking out Impellitteri’s place.”

 

Steve stared at his partner. “She’s been credited with three high profile murders in as many months.”

 

Yauch shrugged, as if the statements were unrelated.

 

Steve turned back to his sketchpad.

 

“So, you got anyone at home?”

 

He didn’t reply.

 

“A girl, I mean.”

 

“I know what you mean.” Steve didn’t look up from his drawing, but Yauch waited, seeming to expect an answer. “I’m married to the job,” he said blandly.

 

“Come on,” Yauch nudged his arm, “a guy like you. I bet there’s a girl.”

 

A shrill scream interrupted Yauch’s questioning. Steve jumped out of the car, racing into the apartment building. The screams didn’t stop as he raced towards them, and only moments later he was there, staring at the screeching woman slumped over a blood-soaked body.

 

He caught movement out of the corner of his eye and turned, noticing the dark figure. They gave chase, up the winding stairs, and Steve followed. From the effort it took to keep up with her, Steve knew this must be the Winter Soldier. No ordinary human could out-run him, she had to have been enhanced in some way.

 

She was fast, but he was gaining on her.

 

He caught up to her on the roof, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her to him. She thrashed, kicking and shoving an elbow into his ribs. He took it, trying to pin her arms down, but she was strong. She threw her head back, bashing his chin. He could taste blood in his mouth but he held onto her, trying to get a grip on her head to stop her from doing it again.

 

For the first time he noticed she was wearing some kind of mask. From what he could see it covered the bottom half of her face, similar to a muzzle. He curled his fingers over it, trying to use it to get a grip on her, if he could keep her in his grasp until backup arrived maybe they could subdue her.

 

She jerked against him, smacking her limbs into him, pushing herself away. She slipped out of his grip but his hand was caught in her mask and it came off with a crack. Steve dropped the mask and lunged forward, trying to grab her, but as she slipped just out of his reach she turned, facing him mask-less for the first time.

 

The shock jolted every nerve in his body, his heart squeezed painfully in his chest. He knew that face better than his own, the piercing brown eyes, the striking jawline, it was the face he saw every time he closed his eyes.

 

“ _Peggy_.”

 

She raised her eyebrow, a movement that was painfully familiar.

 

“Peggy?” She said it as though she was hearing the name for the first time, testing the feel of it in her mouth.

 

Her dark brown hair hung loose around her face instead of in its usual tight curls, and her face was free of her signature red lipstick. But her voice was unmistakably hers.

 

Steve opened his mouth, to say what, he didn’t know.

 

She shook her head as if shaking a thought away, brows furrowing. “Who the hell is Peggy?”

 

The door to the roof slammed open behind them as footsteps stormed up the stairs. Steve turned on instinct, holding his hands up to Yauch and the men behind him, urging them to stop.

 

By the time he turned around she was gone.

 

* * *

 

Steve felt numb, in a daze, as he followed Yauch back to the car.

 

“I’m gonna,” he motioned over his shoulder, “I’ll walk home.”

 

“That’s gotta be ten miles!”

 

Steve had turned around and walked away before Yauch had even finished.

 

* * *

 

At home he couldn’t sit still. The walk had helped to clear his head, but now his stomach was churning with fear and regret. He should never had turned away from her, he should have run after her. But she shouldn’t have even been there in the first place, Peggy was dead.

 

Except she wasn’t.

 

He knew without a doubt that it was her, but that truth had so many sickening, gut wrenching implications. How had she escaped alive? Why hadn’t they found her? Was she angry with him for abandoning her, for giving up the search so soon?

 

The Winter Soldier was a product of Hydra. Steve felt nauseous at the thought of what they must have done to her, how they must have twisted Peggy to make her fight for them. Was she even _Peggy_ anymore?

 

He needed answers, he needed to see her again.

 

* * *

 

Steve showed up to work the next day feeling like a wreck. He hadn’t slept. He’d paced for hours, then eventually went to the gym and pummelled punching bag after punching bag until his knuckles were bloody.

 

He needed to be at work to get a shot at seeing Peggy again, but he’d decided to keep her identity to himself. If he admitted what he knew, they’d either think he’d gone insane and put him on sick leave, or they’d throw him off the case for his history with their target, label it a “conflict of interest.” Either way, it wasn’t going to help him get close to Peggy.

 

He stepped into the conference room, flicking through the various intel they’d gathered on the Winter Soldier.

 

“I need your report on my desk, by yesterday.”

 

“Report?” Steve looked up to see Thompson leaning against the door, trying to look casual, forcing a comradery they didn’t share.

 

“Report on the Winter Soldier. Yauch told me you saw her yesterday.”

 

“I saw her, yeah, but that’s about it. I didn’t get any more information than what we have already.”

 

“Even so, I’m gonna need that report.” Thompson turned to leave.

 

* * *

 

It was three weeks before Steve saw Peggy again. A hotel in Manhattan was hosting a function, and enough high-profile government and military officials were in attendance that it seemed like too good of an opportunity for the Winter Soldier to miss.

 

Steve stayed away from the main function room, keeping an eye on the surrounding corridors and various entrances. He felt the metal of the gun on his neck before he heard her.

 

“ _Peggy_ ,” he breathed.

 

She pulled the gun away, shoving him hard against the wall.

 

“Who is Peggy?” She was angry.

 

He turned to face her, but kept his distance. “You are.”

 

“You’re wrong.”

 

Steve shook his head. “I’m not wrong. You’re Peggy Carter. We fought together during the war. We… we were…” He stumbled over his words, they’d never discussed their relationship, so much between them had gone unspoken.

 

She waited.

 

“Do you remember who I am?”

 

She shook her head.

 

Steve’s heart sank. He’d suspected as much from the way she’d treated him the last time he saw her, but it was completely gutting to have it confirmed. She didn’t know him. His chest felt tight.

 

“You can move aside or I can shoot you, which will it be?” She said it with a chilling callousness.

 

Steve stood there, dumbstruck. He couldn’t let her slip away again.

 

She raised the gun. “What are you waiting for?”

 

“The right partner.” The words came out of his mouth before he realised what he was saying, but Peggy’s reaction was instant.

 

She lowered the gun, almost subconsciously, staring at him. Her brows pulled together, like she was concentrating hard on something. Something flickered across her face. Recognition? Maybe he was being too hopeful. But his words had made her pause.

 

He reached out without thinking, his fingers brushing against her free hand. It was the way he would have touched her before. She would’ve turned her hand and woven her fingers through his.

 

But she didn’t do that now. She pulled away, panic on her face, and ran.

 


	2. Chapter 2

She entered the compound, limbs heavy, like she was trying to walk through water. Images of his face pressed against her skull, pushing at the corner of any thought she had. She could see him at the edges of her mind, but it was just out of reach, when she tried to focus it blurred.

 

She went to the medical room, as was standard procedure after a mission. Dr Volkov nodded in greeting, but the rest of the team kept their heads down, flicking through notes and tinkering with machinery as she sat down, ready to be assessed.

 

She gave the mission report, emitting the details of her encounter. His words weren’t relevant to the mission.

 

As they checked her over, his voice kept filling her head, repeating his words. _The right partner_. It meant nothing and so much at the same time.

 

“Who is that man, with the SSR?”

 

Dr Volkov didn’t lift his head to look at her.

 

“He called me Peggy.” Her head jarred when the name came out of her mouth, like white noise filling her thoughts, but she carried on. “He acted as though he knew me.”

 

The change in his expression was barely perceptible, but she saw it.

 

“Who is Peggy?”

 

“No one.” He finally looked up at her. “He means to trick you, confuse you with false ideas.”

 

His answer didn’t sit quite right, but she knew better than to question him. She simply nodded.

 

When the assessment was complete she moved to stand but Dr Volkov placed his hand on her shoulder, firm in his grip and clear in his message. They weren’t finished with her. Her heart began to race, where had she slipped up? What had she done wrong?

 

The metal clamped around her wrists as she combed through the details of her mission in her head, her account had been thorough, save for one detail. But how could they know? Or had it been her questioning? She should never have mentioned that name, never mentioned him.

 

As Dr Volkov was at the door, he turned to one of the other men. His voice was barely above a whisper, but she heard it clearly.

 

“Wipe her.”

 

The buzzing sound of machinery coming to life, electric charge building, pain coming, it all filled her with terror. Her memories were cloudy, but she knew this, the almost instinctual fear that filled her veins with ice as the mouth guard was pushed against her tongue.

 

Was this the trick Dr Volkov had spoken of? Had that man known that name would get her punished? His face filled her mind as her eyes screwed shut, and it was all she could see as the pain coursed through her.

 

* * *

 

Steve didn’t include his encounter with Peggy in the report. He didn’t even mention he’d seen her. He needed to figure out a plan.

 

He took every shift going, day and night, covering for anyone who’d let him. He barely saw the inside of his apartment. He spent every night out in a car with one of his colleagues, pretending to listen to their complaints about their wife, or their stories about their mistress, while he scanned the area, desperate for glimpse of Peggy.

 

It was weeks before he finally saw her, the back of her, as she ran from a hotel, then her profile for a brief second, as she looked over her shoulder. It wasn’t enough, he needed to know how badly they’d harmed her.

 

In between his shifts he was out, wandering the areas he’d seen her before or hiding near the home of any high ranking official, anyone she might be sent after. He went over and over their conversation in his head. Some part of her was in there, buried deep down, why else would she have lowered her gun?

 

But she’d ran away when he’d touched her. Did he scare her? Steve’s stomach churned, if she’d had her memories stolen then he was just a stranger, working for the organisation who was hunting her down. But what if it was more than that? If her captives had known of her relationship with him, maybe they’d conditioned her to fear him.

 

He shook his head, he felt sick, he couldn’t let his mind wonder down that road, it wouldn’t be any use to Peggy. He needed to get close to her when his colleagues weren’t around.

 

* * *

 

As Steve approached his apartment he noticed his lights were on. He ran, heart racing, had she followed him? He wrenched open the door, his breaths coming in short. The figure in his kitchen turned to face him.

 

“Hey, punk.”

 

Steve hated the way his heart sank.

 

Bucky lifted the trash bag in his hand. “You could’ve at least thrown out the food that’s gone bad, the mould will make you sick.”

 

He nodded, unsure what to say. There was a soft edge to Bucky’s criticism, and he knew by the lines around Bucky’s eyes that he was worried. Steve stepped forward, reaching for the empty cartons of milk on the side, but Bucky put his hand on his shoulder, stopping him.

 

“Go and wash.” He squeezed his shoulder, thumb against his neck in the way that had always comforted him when he’d been smaller. “You could do with a shave while you’re at it.”

 

Steve opened his mouth but Bucky interrupted.

 

“You look like shit, Steve. Go.”

 

He nodded numbly and turned towards the bathroom.

 

Bucky was right, he did look awful. He splashed water over his face, but it didn’t make him feel any better. He washed and shaved, but it didn’t get rid of the knot in the pit of his stomach. When he emerged his apartment looked considerably cleaner, and Bucky was plating up cold cuts and potatoes. Steve’s stomach rumbled, he couldn’t remember the last meal he’d had.

 

They ate in silence, the only sound was metal scraping on ceramic as Steve inhaled his food. He noticed Bucky stealing glances at him as he ate, and he hoped it wasn’t too obvious how hungry he was, he didn’t want Bucky to fret over him.

 

Bucky sighed quietly as he put down his knife and fork. He’d piled Steve’s plate with almost triple the amount he’d given himself.

 

“She wouldn’t want you to live like this.” Bucky’s voice was quiet.

 

Steve’s head snapped up.

 

“I miss her too, Steve. And I know that doesn’t even come close to what you’re feeling,” he cleared his throat, shifting in his seat. “But she’s gone.”

 

His heart squeezed painfully, despite what he now knew.

 

“I’m doing just fine.” He hated the edge to his voice, but he couldn’t keep it out.

 

“You’re not, Steve, your apartment’s a shithole, there’s no food in the cupboards, and you look like you haven’t slept in a month.”

 

He couldn’t deny that.

 

Bucky took a deep breath, clenching his jaw as he looked up at Steve. “It’s not fair to her,” his voice was pained. “You get a future that she doesn’t have. You owe it to her not to waste it.”

 

His words felt like a knife to the gut. Steve had to look away, blinking quickly.

 

He thought of Peggy, twisted and used, killing for an organisation she’d fought so hard to destroy. Bucky was right, Steve owed it to her try harder. He took a deep breath, taking the last bite of his food, chewing it slowly and swallowing before he spoke again.

 

“I miss her, Buck.” He kept his eyes on his plate, his voice barely above a whisper.

 

“I know, pal.”

 

Bucky squeezed his arm before he stood, picking up their plates and taking them to the sink.

 

“You know, my couch is always available if you ever get lonely, I won’t even charge rent.” Bucky’s tone was light, but Steve knew the offer was serious.

 

“All you gotta do is shine my shoes, take out the trash...”

 

“Make myself scarce when there’s a sock on the door knob.” Steve continued, smiling.

 

“Come on, that was one time!”

 

Steve chuckled, feeling himself thaw out at the warm memories.

 

“Jerk,” Bucky muttered under his breath, but Steve could see the smile twitching at the corner of his mouth.

 

* * *

 

After his talk with Bucky, Steve made an effort to keep himself clean and fed. He’d be no use to Peggy wasting away, and being clean shaven couldn’t hurt. He’d always been neatly turned out and clean shaven during the war, that’s the way she’d remember him.

 

He still took some extra shifts, but he was starting to spend a lot more time on his own, out searching the city for her. He got his old dress uniform out from the back of his closet, and he wore it most nights.

 

It felt like months when he finally saw her again, but it was probably a lot less. He was alone, in the dead of night, watching an old war general stumble out of a cab. Steve saw her slip in the side entrance of the apartment block, swift and silent.

 

His body moved of its own accord, following her like he was connected by an invisible piece of string. He didn’t have a plan, all he knew was that he couldn’t let her slip away again. He caught up to her five flights up the stairwell, calling her name until she stopped, three feet in front of him.

 

It was the first glimmer of hope he’d felt in so long, his heart ached as she turned, then dropped to his stomach as he saw the disgust on her face, her hands balled into fists. He raised his hands, palms open, pleading.

 

“ _Peggy._ ”

 

Her jaw clenched, nostrils flaring. She was like a predator ready to pounce. He’d seen her fight countless times, seen her race gun raised into the thick of battle, he’d seen her kill. But nothing had prepared him for the force of that gaze trained on him.

 

“You know me,” his words shook against his will, if he said the wrong thing she’d be gone in an instant. He took a deep breath.

 

“You’re my right partner.” Those words left his mouth calm and clear.

 

Peggy didn’t flinch, didn’t blink. She just looked at him blankly.

 

He stood frozen on the spot as terror gripped him, staring at her as she took a step back, her eyes never leaving him. She crouched and pounced, kicking him square in the chest with a force that sent him backwards, head slamming against the concrete floor.

 

By the time he scrambled back to his feet, she was gone.

 

* * *

 

Steve felt numb in the days that followed his encounter. He hadn’t realised how much hope he’d pinned on her reaction to his words until that reaction was ripped away. Whatever recognition she’d had was gone.

 

It was like losing her again, and just like the first time, it took him several days before the loss hit him, pulling him under and threatening to drown him. He knew his colleagues sensed a change, they avoided him even more than usual. But they still had pair up for outings, that was protocol, no matter how unwilling both parties were.

 

Steve sat in the car with his colleague. He sketched as Krzeminski inhaled a corned beef sandwich, spilling condiments all over the dashboard.

 

Krzeminski broke the silence. “I heard you got a look at her.”

 

Steve’s blood ran cold. He turned to face his colleague, shifting uncomfortably in a car too small for his large frame.

 

“I wouldn’t mind getting another one, if you know what I mean,” he added with a wink.

 

“No, I don’t.” Steve replied.

 

Krzeminski didn’t catch the biting edge to Steve’s voice. “She’s got that Rita Hayworth, pinup look about her. Makes me wonder what other kind of jobs they use her for.”

 

Steve was out of the car before Krzeminski had finished his sentence. He wasn’t about to lose his job, and with it his access to the Winter Soldier case, over one pig-headed comment. He walked away, pacing as the cold night air washed over him, clearing his head.

 

“Cap!”

 

He tried to drown out Krzeminski’s shouts. He needed more time to calm down.

 

“I see her, Cap!”

 

Steve’s head whipped around, following his colleague’s line of sight. He spotted her just as he noticed Krzeminski fumbling in his coat pocket out of the corner of his eye.

 

He was too far away when he heard the metal click of the trigger being pulled. The first bullet left the gun before Steve could reach him, but he grabbed his arm as the second and third left, spraying across the empty alleyway.

 

Steve’s chest was heaving as his eyes searched the dimly lit street for Peggy, but he couldn’t see her. He had no idea if she’d been hit.

 

“What the hell are you doing?” Krzeminski pushed at him as he yelled, but Steve didn’t move. “I had her you jackass!”

 

Steve looked down at him numbly.

 

Krzeminski turned and got back in the car, stashing the gun in his holster.

 

“You can tell the chief why we’re coming back empty handed,” he said as he slammed the car door.

 

* * *

 

Thompson was spitting mad. He threw his weight around the bull pen, yelling up a storm. The agents unfortunate enough to still be on the clock busied themselves, topping up full cups of coffee and avoiding eye contact.

 

When Thompson had finished his display of authority, he pulled Steve and Krzeminski into his office. They sat down as Thompson poured himself a drink and took a long, slow sip. He sat heavily in his seat, then leaned forward towards Steve, bracing his arms on the table.

 

“You know, there was a time when I would’ve believed having Captain America on my team was an asset, but you seem intent on proving day after day that you’re nothing but a liability.”

 

He shot back another sip.

 

“Now I want you to explain to me why the Winter Soldier is still at large when Krzeminski had her at point blank range.”

 

Krzeminski had exaggerated, of course, but that didn’t matter to Thompson.

 

“I want you to explain why we have to spend another day of our time and resources searching for a killer that could’ve been taken out tonight.”

 

Steve squared his shoulders, sitting up in his seat. “She’s entitled to a fair trial.”

 

Thompson looked taken aback. “A _fair trial_?”

 

Krzeminski shifted in his seat, the fact that he was keeping quiet was a testament to how angry Thompson was.

 

“You lost our biggest target, the woman who killed Chief Dooley in cold blood, because you think she deserves a fair trial?”

 

Steve clenched his jaw, trying to keep calm. “It’s not what I think, it’s explicitly stated in the Universal Declaration of Human Rights.”

 

The legs of Thompson’s chair screeched across the floor as he stood and slammed his glass down on his desk. He looked down at Steve, in a pose he knew well from watching Thompson’s torture routine, it was meant to intimidate.

 

“The last thing I need right now are your smart-ass remarks.” His voice was low. “I am only going to say this once, your job is to bring the Winter Soldier to me, dead or alive.”

 

Steve bit his tongue.

 

“If I hear that you are actively sabotaging this mission again you’ll be out of here so fast your head will spin.”

 

Thompson sat back down and poured himself another drink, sipping it slowly as he calmed down. He looked from Steve to Krzeminski before he spoke again.

 

“Now have I made myself clear?”

 

“Yes boss,” Krzeminski replied, clearly as eager to leave as Steve was.

 

Steve nodded, hoping that would be enough to placate Thompson, and then stood to leave. He was ready to head back home and figure out his next steps as Thompson followed him out into the bull pen.

 

“And that goes for all of you,” Thompson announced. “The Winter Soldier killed one of our own, she doesn’t deserve mercy from any of us.”

 

Steve’s stomach dropped.


	3. Chapter 3

**1945**

 

_The sound of gunfire still rang in Steve’s ears, although the compound was quiet. It hadn’t been heavily staffed but Hydra had still had the advantage, their base being tucked into the solid rock of the Alps made it hard to penetrate. Not that it stopped Steve and the fellas from doing just that._

_“Do you hear anything?” Peggy turned to him._

_He and Peggy had been at the forefront._

_He shook his head._

_Peggy nodded, moving forward cautiously. It was eerily quiet. They still had a task to complete before they could get out. The layout was complicated, and they followed the winding, damp tunnels, guns raised._

_Steve tensed at the scuffle of boots against concrete._

_“Who goes there.” Peggy called out._

_“Easy.” Dugan rounded the corner, arms raised._

_Peggy sighed. “Why are you still in here?”_

_“This place is a maze,” he shook his head. “You two had any luck yet?”_

_“Not yet,” Steve replied._

_“Well there’s half a bottle of bourbon waiting for you when you’ve found it. Less if you keep us waiting.”_

_“I doubt there’ll be any at the rate you drink it,” Peggy teased._

_Dugan chuckled. “I’m gonna head back,” he moved past them, heading in the direction they’d come from. “See how Barnes is doing.”_

_“Bucky?” Steve’s head whipped around to face Dugan._

_Dugan rubbed his hand over his face, cursing quietly. “I thought you knew. He got hit, a bullet grazed his shoulder.”_

_Steve nodded, hands shaking slightly._

_“He’ll be fine Cap. We’ll see you outside.” Dugan turned and left them in the dim tunnel._

_“Go back, Steve.” Peggy’s voice was gentle, soothing._

_He shook his head. “We need to find the maps first.”_

_“I’ll find them, it shouldn’t take long.”_

_He stepped forward and Peggy placed a hand on his chest._

_“You’re distracted, Steve. More likely to make mistakes. I’ll find what we need and meet you outside.”_

_He wanted to protest, the idea of leaving her didn’t sit right with him, but she was right, he’d only slow her down._

_Steve nodded and took her hand, holding it in his._

_“Be safe.”_

_“I will.” She smiled. “It wouldn’t do to get myself injured now that you’ve finally asked me to go dancing.”_

_“Hey, I would’ve asked a lot sooner if I’d had any idea you were interested.”_

_“I think I made my intentions quite clear.” She pulled her bottom lip through her teeth, looking up at him. “We’ll go this Saturday, at that dance hall we found in Lucerne.”_

_Steve smiled, squeezing her hand. “You know, I still don’t know how to dance.”_

_“I’ll show you how.” Her voice sent shivers down his spine._

_“We’ll have to ask the band to play something slow, I’d hate to step on your toes.”_

_Peggy smiled a beautiful smile, full of promise. She pushed herself up and kissed his cheek._

_“Go and check on Bucky. I’ll meet you outside.”_

_Steve nodded, letting go of her hand, and walked away._

* * *

_Steve paced outside the compound debating whether or not to go back in. Bucky was fine, he was acting like an asshole because of the pain, but his injury wasn’t life threatening._

_But Peggy was late._

_He knew she was competent and capable, she’d probably be out any minute with the maps and some other useful intel, but he still worried. He walked in tight circles._

_Without warning, an enormous bang shook the floor and sprayed debris across his side._

_“Peggy!” Steve ran towards the source of the explosion, heart racing._

_It came from inside the building, but he could see flames spreading quickly across the entrance. He jumped over the flames, ignoring the fellas yelling his name. He was barely inside when another explosion shook the building, throwing him across the room._

_“Peggy!” He stood, searching frantically, but thick black smoke began to fill the building._

_The place must have been booby-trapped._

_He crawled, screaming Peggy’s name over and over. The noise from the fire was building but his hearing was good, he would’ve been able to hear her if she was calling back. He couldn’t hear her, couldn’t see any sign of her._

_There was rubble everywhere, he tried to push it out of his way. He looked for the tunnel they’d gone through, but everything was blocked by rubble. He felt sick, Peggy must’ve got trapped, but whether she was trapped in the tunnel, or trapped under rubble, he didn’t know. He couldn’t think, he just needed to get to her, to get her out._

_His eyes were burning, his screams for Peggy were becoming interspersed with coughs. He kept going for as long as he could, it felt like hours, but he had no idea how long it actually was._

_His head was becoming foggy, his vision blurring. He couldn’t go back, Peggy deserved better, better than being lost in this hell. But he was becoming weaker. He screamed her name one last time before everything went black._

* * *

_Steve woke up in the hospital, his lungs and throat still felt like they were burning. He turned and saw Dugan at his bedside, looking haggard._

_“Peggy?” Steve’s voice was hoarse, and barely above a whisper._

_Dugan shook his head, and Steve felt the crushing weight of grief bear down on his chest._

 

* * *

 

 

Steve lay awake most nights, his stomach churning. He went over the day Peggy went missing, as he’d done for the past six years. He hated himself for leaving her, for walking away and leaving her alone in that Hydra compound. He used to tear himself up with thoughts of how she might have died.

 

Now those thoughts were mixed with images of her being taken and tortured. Had she been injured in the explosion, and picked up by Hydra before the fellas had been able to properly search the place? Or had they taken her before that, out some route they didn’t know about?

 

No matter when it had happened, Peggy had been harmed. She’d been in Hydra’s clutches for the last six years. She was still in their clutches. He knew the kind of experiments they did on people, he’d read about their torture methods.

 

He felt nauseous at the thought of Peggy being tortured, of her continuing to be harmed. He thought about what would happen if one of his colleagues got close to Peggy when he wasn’t around to intervene.

 

As he mulled everything over, he realised needed to tell the SSR who she was. He needed to stop anyone else from harming her.

 

* * *

 

“You can’t be serious.” Sousa shook his head. “That’s insane.”

 

“I’m aware of how it sounds,” Steve said, “but it’s true.”

 

He looked across the conference table. Thompson and Sousa were staring at him open mouthed.

 

“If we bring her in, she can’t be held accountable for her actions. She’s being forced to comply.”

 

Thompson slammed his hand on the table. “She murdered Chief Dooley, and you want to grant her immunity because you think she’s an old girlfriend of yours?”

 

“It’s not like that,” Steve protested.

 

Thompson rubbed his forehead, lowering his voice.

 

“This isn’t gonna cut it with the brass. I’ve got Senators calling me daily, asking me when I’m gonna find the Winter Soldier, and I have every intention of bringing her in, dead or alive.”

 

Steve opened his mouth to reply but Thompson carried on.

 

“And if she comes in alive, she’ll be headed straight for the noose. Now I’m not gonna get a medal on my chest for capturing one of your old flames from the war, but I am gonna get a medal for capturing the Winter Soldier.”

 

“You’re not going to capture her.” Steve said evenly.

 

If there was anything Steve could rely on, it was Thompson’s incompetence. He could intimidate the office into compliance, but he relied on others skills and hard work to succeed.

 

Thompson stood up. “We’ll see about that.” As he walked past Steve he patted him on the shoulder. It was patronising, more than comforting. “Take a leave of absence. I know you lost a lot during the war, but we all did. I don’t want to see you back here until you’ve gotten over your soft spot for our target.”

 

* * *

 

Steve knew he had to form a different strategy, as confronting Peggy wasn’t getting him anywhere. He decided if he could follow her, instead of confronting her, maybe he could find out where she was being kept. That would at least give him a shot at finding out who her captors were. The theory was Hydra, and it fit, but Steve and the fellas had wiped most of them out after the war. He wanted to know what they’d missed, how they’d let Peggy slip through their fingers.

 

He spent his days and most nights hiding, in alleyways or on rooftops, waiting for her to appear. He eventually got lucky, and she led him through the streets of Brooklyn. He tailed her until she dipped into a nondescript warehouse.

 

He stood outside, his heart hammering. This was it. A warehouse in Brooklyn. Peggy had been a stone’s throw away from him for God knows how long, and he’d had no idea.

 

It only took him a moment of deliberation before he realised he already knew what he was going to do. He walked to the door Peggy had entered through, and shoved his full weight against it until it slammed open. Alarms blared, but he walked through the warehouse openly. It was a complicated route of staircases and tunnels that lead underground, but he wasn’t confronted until he reached the lower floor.

 

He knocked the men out easily, before turning a corner and seeing a closed door with a viewing window beside it. He could see Peggy through the window, she was surrounded by men in dull grey uniform. He noticed the sickeningly familiar image of a skull and tentacles on their sleeves at the same time he noticed the man in a lab coat standing next to her.

 

He pushed the door open and shoved away the guards that jumped to stop him.

 

“What are you doing to her?” His chest was heaving.

 

The man in the lab coat didn’t offer an answer, so Steve turned his attention to Peggy.

 

“Peggy, I’m not going to force you to come with me.” He looked her in the eyes, trying to keep his voice steady, “but I can offer you safety.”

 

The man next to her snickered. “Peggy Carter died a long time ago. This is the woman you call the Winter Soldier, our greatest asset.” He said it with a sickening pride.

 

Steve took a step forward.

 

The man turned to Peggy. “Kill him.”

 

She nodded, before she lunged for Steve. His head smacked against the floor and they scuffled, both trying to gain control, but Steve was at a disadvantage, he couldn’t hurt her. She bashed his head against the floor once more and everything went dark.

 

* * *

 

When Steve came to he realised he was being dragged along the floor. He blinked, trying to get his bearings, just as he was pulled inside a building. As soon as Peggy released her grip he jumped up, facing her. She pounced on him instantly, pummelling him with punches. He tried to grip her arms, but she was strong.

 

“Peggy,” he pleaded. “You know me.” He could taste blood. “We fought together in the war.”

 

She threw another punch.

 

“I loved you.”

 

She pulled back, and he thought she might stop, until she grabbed him by his shirt and threw him to the ground. His ankle twisted painfully as he went down.

 

Jumping on top of him, she hit him again.

 

“You know I still don’t know how to dance.” His voice sounded distant, but he managed to get the words out.

 

She paused for a second, before landing another punch.

 

“We’ll have to ask the band to play something slow, I’d hate to step on your toes.”

 

Steve’s vision was starting to blur, his limbs were feeling heavy. He heard Peggy’s sharp intake of breath as she raised her fist, but he passed out before she had a chance to hit him again.

 

* * *

 

She looked down at the man beneath her. She didn’t know him, she didn’t know anyone outside of her handlers and her targets.

 

So why did images of his face fill her mind?

 

With each hit she felt more and more uncertain. The pain on his features made her stomach twist. She’d killed countless times, why did he matter? His pain shouldn’t affect her.

 

But it did.

 

She recoiled at the thought of killing him, it was an almost physical pain, but she had orders.  And then he spoke. The words shifted something in her mind, there was an image of them together, in a dark, damp tunnel. He held her hand in his.

 

She shook her head. It didn’t make any sense, she didn’t know him, but as she raised her hand to hit him again, he lost consciousness. She almost cried out. This wasn’t right. She panicked, lifting herself off him. She needed to get him to safety.

 

She rummaged through his pockets for spare change. Leaving him there, she ran to the nearest pay phone, jamming coins in. She called the emergency services and told them where to find him, but as she hung up, she knew she couldn’t just walk away.

 

She went back to him. He was exactly where she’d left him, still unconscious. Bruises were starting to form across his face. She sat down next to him and pulled his head into her lap. Stroking his hair back from his face, she watched him. Images of his face filled her mind, images of him as he was, and of him much smaller, his face narrower.

 

“Steve,” she murmured. Somehow, she knew that was his name.

 

Looking down it his face, so unguarded and vulnerable, she felt overwhelmed. All she knew was that she needed to protect him, no matter the cost. Sirens blared in the distance, but the noise was fast approaching. She lifted his head gently from her lap, and settled him on the floor, before walking away.


	4. Chapter 4

When Steve woke up his head was pounding. He opened his eyes, blinking against the light. As he looked around he recognised the drab walls of a hospital room. _Fuck_. He’d lost Peggy.

 

“What the hell did you do this time?”

 

He turned to see Bucky sitting by his bed. Steve groaned, looking away.

 

“I get a call from the hospital in the middle of the night, telling me you’ve got yourself into a fight.”

 

Steve didn’t reply.

 

“And I know it’s got to be a bad fight if it’s put _you_ in the hospital.”

 

“I’m fine.” He didn’t look at Bucky, but he heard him sigh.

 

“I called your office, ready to yell at them for sending you out on your own, but they told me you took a leave of absence a week ago.” He leaned forward in his chair. “What’s going on, Steve?”

 

“It’s Peggy.”

 

When Bucky didn’t reply, Steve turned to look at him. Bucky looked weary and sad.

 

“She’s the Winter Soldier, Buck. They had her all along.”

 

Bucky was quiet for a long moment, before he cursed under his breath.

 

“She did this?” He gestured towards Steve.

 

“She’s not herself.” He sunk back against the pillow, staring up at the ceiling. “She doesn’t know who she is. She looked right at me, and didn’t even recognise me.”

 

It felt like a knife in his gut, saying it out loud.

 

“Are you her new target?”

 

“No,” Steve shook his head. “I followed her to the place they keep her and confronted them. Her handlers ordered her to kill me.”

 

“But she didn’t.”

 

Steve opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out.

 

“Sounds like she had you on the ropes, what stopped her from finishing the job?”

 

For the first time since Peggy had looked right through him as he’d told her she was his right partner, Steve felt the beginnings of hope building in his chest. He tried to push it away. She’d beaten him almost to death. _Almost_.

 

“They found you alone,” Bucky said. “Do you have any idea who might’ve called the ambulance?”

 

Steve knew what Bucky was getting at, but the thought was overwhelming. If part of her was still in there, she might be able to come back to herself. But it also meant she might be aware of what they were doing to her. The thought of her, trapped in her own mind while her body was used against her will, was too much.

 

He turned away from Bucky, squeezing his eyes shut.

 

* * *

 

Steve didn’t need to turn the light on to know someone was in his bedroom. He steeled himself for an attack, slowly reaching to turn on the lamp.

 

_Peggy._

 

She leant heavily against the wall, shoulders slumped inward. She didn’t look like she was here to hurt him, if she had been she’d had plenty of opportunities already. She looked exhausted.

 

He moved towards her slowly, hands up for her to see. His movements were stiff and he still walked with a slight limp, his injuries weren’t fully healed yet. She didn’t recoil as he approached, which was good. She wasn’t afraid of him, they hadn’t put that idea in her head.

 

When he got closer he saw she was clutching her side. Noticing his gaze, she pulled her hand away, and that’s when he saw the blood.

 

She’d come here for help.

 

Steve reached out, just shy of touching her, waiting for her response. He was terrified. One wrong move and she’d be gone again, he’d lose her  _again_. Every time it seemed like he was almost getting through to her, she’d run.

 

But this time she didn’t run. She pushed off from the wall and staggered forward, sinking onto the bed. He knelt beside Peggy, looking at her for confirmation. She nodded. Ever so slowly, he lifted her blood-soaked shirt, exposing the side she’d been clutching.

 

A deep gash cut across her side, it started over her ribcage and trailed towards her stomach. It would need stitches.

 

“Wait here.”

 

Steve went to the bathroom and gathered his supplies as quickly as he could.

 

At the door to his bedroom, he paused, taking in a deep breath at the sight of Peggy, still on his bed. The relief was short lived. As he looked at her, lying on his bed, he was struck with the thought that this would’ve been normal, in another life. In the life they should’ve had, the life Peggy deserved, it would have been  _their_  bed. The grief was crushing.

 

But this was their lot, and as it stood, Peggy was here with him, and not with her handlers, being tortured in a multitude of ways, and that was nothing short of a miracle.

 

He spread out his supplies on the nightstand, pulled a chair up to the bed, and got to work. Peggy was quiet as he disinfected the wound, which terrified him. She must have been in almost unbearable pain. Had they forced that out of her? Forced her to swallow the pain for their own comfort?

 

It was a dangerous path of thought to go down, Steve knew from experience, so he tried to focus only on threading the stitches. For an artist who was usually good with his hands, he wasn’t great at stitching up wounds. But taking her to a hospital was risky, what with a warrant out for her arrest, and he damn well wasn’t going to send her back to her handlers to patch her up, so this would have to do.

 

“You trust me.”

 

Peggy broke Steve’s train of thought with her statement. It was very clearly a statement, not a question.

 

“I do,” he replied evenly.

 

“After everything?”

 

Steve met her gaze. “I know you won’t hurt me Peggy.”

 

She frowned and he knew how perplexing his statement must seem to her. The bruises she’d given him still littered his face, though they were yellowing now, and she could probably guess at the rest of the damage she’d done by the stiffness of his movements.

 

“This,” he motioned to his face, “it wasn’t you. It was them, using you. You would never hurt me if you had the choice.”

 

She still looked unsure. “I could’ve killed you.”

 

“But you didn’t. You stopped.”

 

Peggy looked away, her eyes glassy, and he knew he had to stop. He didn’t want to push her. But it was true. She’d beaten him to within an inch of his life, he had been barely conscious, completely at her mercy, and something had stopped her from finishing the job.

 

He finished up the stitches and offered her some medicine for the pain. She hesitated before deciding to take it.

 

“Stay as long as you need,” he told her.

 

He cleared up the kit, wiping the blood off Peggy’s hand before washing up himself. In the kitchen he filled a glass with water and drank it slowly, trying to keep himself together.

 

Peggy was here, she was relatively safe, and she trusted him enough to have come to him for help. He knew he couldn’t ask her how she got the wound, but he could give her as much support and comfort as she would allow.

 

He filled a fresh glass with water and carried it to the bedroom, placing it on the nightstand beside Peggy. He turned to leave, but as he reached the door, Peggy’s voice stopped him.

 

“Stay.”

 

Steve’s heart clenched. He turned slowly, expecting to find that he’d imagined her plea.

 

She met his gaze evenly.

 

“Please.”

 

He didn’t hesitate a second longer, he approached the bed and laid down cautiously, looking to Peggy for reassurance. When he was settled, she leant back against the pillow, eyelids fluttering shut.

 

They laid in silence for a long time. Steve studied Peggy’s face, counted the rise and fall of her chest. He couldn’t sleep with her so close, he was scared she might disappear if he closed his eyes for too long, but he felt calmer than he had in a very long time.

 

Steve had no idea how much time had passed when Peggy reached out, taking his hand in hers. It jolted him, the familiarity of her touch. Her grip was solid, as he remembered, her hands still soft. He never wanted her to let go.

 

* * *

 

Steve woke sometime in the early hours of the morning to find himself alone. He cursed himself for falling asleep.

 

He looked around the room, his mind still foggy from sleep, and noticed the empty glass on the nightstand. Falling back against the bed, he took a deep breath, reassured that he hadn’t dreamt his encounter with Peggy.

****

* * *

 

Steve entered his apartment and dropped his keys on the table. He’d been at the gym, destroying punching bags again. It helped him clear his head, and he needed a clear head if he was going to be able to help Peggy. He slipped off his shoes and headed towards the bedroom.

 

When he turned on the light he almost jumped out of his skin. Peggy was in his room again, but she didn’t look hurt this time. She stood by his nightstand, holding a photo frame.

 

“What’ve you got there?” He tried to keep his voice steady.

 

She turned to him, holding up the frame. It was a photograph of herself, from Camp Lehigh. Steve had stolen it from her file.

 

“We knew each other, before you got the serum,” she said evenly.

 

Steve’s heart leapt. “You remember?”

 

She shook her head. “I’ve been researching.”

 

He nodded. That was something positive, at least.

 

“But it’s mixed with some memories,” she continued. “The research helps trigger things. I remember a car journey, when you were smaller. You talked about waiting for the right partner.”

 

Steve nodded. “I was on my way to get the serum. You asked why I’d never gone dancing before.”

 

She smiled, looking down at the photograph in her hand.

 

“Were we together?” She asked without looking up from the photo.

 

“We...” Steve didn’t know how to answer.

 

She looked up at him, waiting.

 

“It was never discussed, other than talk about going dancing, but there was something between us.” Steve took a deep breath. “There was a lot going on, but we had an understanding that when it was all over we could... start something.”

 

Peggy nodded, seeming satisfied with his answer.

 

They stood in silence for a long time.

 

“Did they send you here?” He asked quietly.

 

“They don’t send me anywhere, not anymore.”

 

Steve’s brow furrowed.

 

“I didn’t go back to them, after I...” she looked him over warily.

 

Steve was stunned. He hadn’t expected that.

 

“Stay here, you can have the bed. I don’t sleep much anyway.” His words tumbled out of his mouth too quickly.

 

She shook her head. “Thank you, but I’d rather not put you in danger, I expect they’re looking for me.”

 

Peggy looked so tired. She’d had so much of her agency stripped away from her, now she finally had a chance to make her own choices again. He wouldn’t take that away from her.

 

He nodded. “The offer’s always open, if you change your mind.”

 

She smiled, putting the photo frame back on his nightstand.

 

“Do you have anything else like this?” She nodded to the photo.

 

“I... yeah.” Steve walked over to the closet, taking out the shoebox he kept at the bottom. He put it on the bed and sat down, resting his back against the headboard. Peggy did the same.

 

He opened the box carefully, bracing himself for the onslaught of emotion he usually felt when he opened this box. But somehow, with Peggy sitting beside him, it didn’t seem so bad.

 

Peggy watched him as he reached in the box and pulled out his compass. He popped it open and handed it to her. She examined it carefully, cradling it in her hands like it was made of glass. She didn’t say anything. Steve searched through the various items, before handing her a stack of letters.

 

“We wrote to each other while you were in Europe and I was on the USO tour,” he explained.

 

She flicked through the pile, pausing to look at a few of the postcards.

 

“You can come and look through this anytime,” he said. “I’ll leave it in the closet.”

 

Peggy nodded, but didn’t say anything else.

 

* * *

 

Peggy held the pile of letters in her hands. It was surreal, to look at the words she knew she’d written, but to have no memory of it. Perhaps as she read through them, things would come back to her.

 

Steve seemed keen to have her there, he’d offered her his bed, after all, and it was a tempting offer, she felt safe around him in a way she didn’t around anyone else. But the dull pain in her side from the still healing wound reminded her why that was a bad idea. She put the letters aside and looked at Steve, waiting for him to pick something else out.

 

He proceeded to hand her things, offering brief explanations. Her necklace with her family crest, a broach from her mother, pictures of her that Steve had drawn. When he handed her a photograph of a man in uniform her stomach dropped.

 

“That’s your brother, Michael.”

 

Peggy felt the grief pulling her down, making her head feel cloudy. _Michael_. She remembered him as a boy, stealing her toys, pulling faces across the dinner table, comforting her after she’d been told off. She remembered standing in a wedding dress at the window, watching her mother break down.

 

“Hey,” Steve spoke softly.

 

Peggy blinked up at him, feeling the tears run down her cheeks.

 

Ever so slowly, Steve lifted his hand and wiped away her tears. It grounded her, his touch, she craved it so deeply. She moved, leaning against his side, and he wrapped his arm around her. It made more sense to her now, after seeing Steve’s box of her keepsakes, hearing him describe their relationship. She knew they shared a deep bond. She could feel it, even though she couldn’t remember the details of it.

 

* * *

 

Eventually Peggy left, taking the picture of her brother and a few letters with her. When Steve closed his eyes he could still feel the solid weight of her in his arms, the warmth of her pressed against him. His arms ached for her.

 

All he wanted was to hold her close, to wrap her up in his arms and make sure no harm ever came to her again. It was terrifying, watching her leave and not knowing where she was going, not knowing when he’d see her again. But everything had to be on Peggy’s terms. That was vital. She had a chance to carve out her own life, and Steve could only hope she wanted him to be part of that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of this might be familiar to some readers, because a chunk of this chapter was written for steggy week 2k17, when I just had the vague idea that I wanted to write a Winter Soldier Peggy story despite having no real plot. But the reaction to that oneshot really encouraged me to think of how I could work it into a longer story, so thanks to everyone who was so excited about it!
> 
> My inbox is always open on tumblr if anyone wants to talk about this story or any other steggy headcanons :)


	5. Chapter 5

It was two weeks before Steve saw Peggy again. He stayed in the apartment as much as he could, in case she came looking for him. He worried it might have been too much, too overwhelming for her. All the photographs and the letters and talking about her past. He wished he could check in with her, just to know she was ok, but he had no way of contacting her.

 

* * *

 

Peggy knocked on his front door the next time she came to his apartment, which was a first. Not that he minded her letting herself in.

 

“I got caught in a downpour.”

 

She was soaking wet.

 

“I thought you always carried an umbrella.” He stepped aside to let her in.

 

“I only said that because it was the correct rejoinder,” she replied, walking past him. She looked soaked to the bone.

 

It was a relief to know she recognised the reference.

 

“Do you have somewhere to stay?”

 

She ignored his question, emptying the contents of her bag on his table. She spread the items out carefully, checking them for damage, before hanging the damp bag over the back of a chair.

 

“Can I use your bath?”

 

He nodded, showing her to the bathroom.

 

Back in the living area, Steve paced, unsure what to do with himself when something caught his eye. A photograph of him from his first day at Camp Lehigh poked out from a thick notebook Peggy had placed on the table. He turned away quickly, he didn’t want to pry.

 

He decided to make tea. Peggy had taught him to make it just the way she liked, and he assumed she still liked it that way.

 

When he heard the plug being pulled and the dull splashes as Peggy got out of the bath, he poured her a cup with just a dash of milk.

 

“I see I taught you well.”

 

Steve turned at the sound of Peggy’s voice. She was wearing one of his t-shirts, which covered her to mid-thigh. It tugged at his heart, seeing her in his clothes, her damp hair framing her face. She walked over to him and picked up her mug, wrapping her hands around it. He noticed her nails were painted red, surely that was a good sign.

 

Peggy took her drink and settled on the couch, she shivered before taking a sip.

 

“It’s freezing in here.”

 

Steve sat down next to her. “Sorry, I don’t often have company.” He scratched the back of his neck, feeling guilty. With his body temperature, it seemed a waste to spend money on heating the place.

 

“It’s quite alright,” she said, putting down her mug.

 

She tucked her feet underneath herself and leaned against him, shivering again as she pressed her skin against his. He rubbed his hands up and down her arms to try and warm her up, she felt freezing.

 

Peggy was restless, trying to get comfortable against him. Eventually she gave up and pushed him down so he was lying across the couch. She draped her body across him and sighed as he spread his warm hand across her back. It felt unbelievably good having the length of her body pressed against him.

 

She still felt tense, but as Steve moved his hand, rubbing her back, she relaxed a little, her eyes drifting closed. With both hands he kneaded the muscles of her shoulders and back, and Peggy melted into him, making quiet noises of contentment.

 

They stayed like that for a long time, Steve’s hands working over Peggy’s back as she dozed on top of him, her face pressed against his neck.

 

“Can I stay here tonight?” She asked sleepily.

 

“Of course.”

 

“Your lot have chased me out of my last place.” Her eyes were still closed as she spoke.

 

“My lot?”

 

“Your colleagues. The SSR.”

 

Steve pulled back, looking at Peggy.

 

“What happened? Did they hurt you?” Fear rose inside him. She was a victim, being used against her own will, and she was being hunted like a criminal.

 

She shook her head, curling against him. “It’s nothing I can’t handle. But I can’t go back there.”

 

Steve needed to get back to work, he couldn’t let this continue.

 

* * *

 

The ice clinked in the glass as Thompson handed Steve the scotch he’d poured. It was the first time Steve had ever accepted Thompson’s offer of a drink in his office, a chance to talk “man to man,” as Thomson put it. That seemed absurd, considering the office was almost exclusively men. It was most likely Thompson’s way of showing off, asserting his status as Chief.

 

Thompson sat down in his chair, making every effort to look at ease as he took a sip of his drink. He was trying to give off the impression he was born for this role, rather than miles out of his depth. Steve smiled at Thompson, taking a sip of his drink in response. He needed Thompson to think he was on his side.

 

“So, I don’t suppose you’ve come all the way over here to hand in your notice.”

 

Steve shook his head, putting the glass on the desk between them.

 

“Things have changed.”

 

Thompson laughed to himself. “I heard she put you in the hospital. Guess the lovers’ reunion didn’t go exactly the way you pictured it.”

 

“Yeah, something like that.” Steve took a deep breath, trying to keep his expression blank. He’d always been a terrible liar. “She’s not the woman I used to know.”

 

Thompson looked sympathetic, almost. “We’ve all been there.”

 

Steve doubted Thompson had ever been in a situation even remotely similar to his, but he nodded as though he agreed.

 

Thompson downed the rest of his drink and placed it heavily on the desk, leaning forward in his chair.

 

“Have you got anything for me?”

 

“Boston.” Steve said quietly. “She’s got some family there. She’ll probably try to get in contact with them in between her missions.”

 

Thompson slammed his hand on the desk, a smug smile on his face. “I’ll get Krzeminski on it.”

 

He stood up and moved to stand next to Steve, patting his shoulder. “Now get back in there, we need all the manpower we can get to bring her in.”

 

* * *

 

Peggy decided to stay at Steve’s place for a second night. She’d slept on and off, on top of him, for the first night. She still wasn’t comfortable with the thought that she was leading her captors to him, but she desperately needed his comfort.

 

It wasn’t until his hands had worked over her back that she’d realised how touch starved she was for him. His closeness brought her a sense of home and belonging that she didn’t feel anywhere else.

 

She had plenty to do during the day, while Steve was at work. She’d already collected a lot of information about her family, though she hadn’t plucked up the courage to see them just yet.

 

A lot of the information had come from her trip back home, to Hampstead. The area had triggered a lot of memories of her childhood, although it was still foggy in places. Now she wanted more information about her life in the army, she needed to know how she’d ended up where she was. Which brought her to the SSR.

 

She knew they had a file on her, it’s where Steve had got her photograph. She spent most of the day across the street from the building, taking note of who came and went while reading some records about herself she’d picked up at Bletchley. She waited until nightfall to make her move. Most of the staff, including Steve, had left for the day.

 

It was surprisingly easy to infiltrate, for all the cloak and dagger facade on the outside. She slipped in through a window and quickly located the file room.

Her file was thorough. There was information about her involvement in Project Rebirth, her time in Europe before Steve joined them, then her stint with the Howling Commandos. The photo of her with the team shocked her, even in the midst of war she looked so confident and carefree.

 

At the sound of footsteps, she shoved a handful of documents and photographs in her bag and left.

 

* * *

 

Steve seemed surprised when she came back to his apartment later that evening. He clearly assumed she’d packed up and left. She opened her mouth to apologise for intruding, but before she could speak he walked over to his pokey little kitchen and started taking food out of the icebox. He motioned for her to sit down, before plating up leftovers for both of them.

 

“How was your day?” She asked between mouthfuls. It felt odd to ask such an ordinary question, under the circumstances. As though they were an ordinary couple who sat down to eat together every evening.

 

Steve took it in his stride. He told her how he’d convinced his colleagues he was back on their side, not that it had taken much convincing. He told her about Rose’s get well soon card she had all the girls sign, before she realised she didn’t have his address. He told her about his lunch, beef stew, at a diner near the office.

 

“We’ll go there sometime?” He glanced up at her as he asked, seeming unsure of himself. She supposed they hadn’t made any commitments to one another.

 

“Oh,” he continued. “Stay away from Boston.”

 

She raised an eyebrow in question.

 

Steve looked at his plate, moving food around sheepishly. “I might’ve given Thompson a reason to think you’d be there. To buy you some time.”

 

Peggy smiled to herself.

 

* * *

 

 

The bed was comfortable, that wasn’t the problem. She had plenty of blankets that Steve had pulled out of a cupboard, so she wasn’t cold. The problem was that she was alone. Steve, of course, had insisted on taking the couch, despite the fact that it was almost comically too small for him.

 

When he’d handed her the pile of blankets and wished her goodnight, she’d wanted to tell him she’d prefer his warmth in the bed with her, but she couldn’t quite form the words to ask.

 

* * *

 

Peggy felt ice cold, the hairs on the back of her neck were raised. She knew what was coming.

 

Her memories of it where hazy, but nothing they did could completely wipe this feeling from her, the sheer panic that coursed through her as the metal clamps wrapped around her wrists. She could hear the buzzing of the machinery as it was turned on, ready to shock her into submission, steal away another piece of her. She cried out, screamed for help, but no sound came out.

 

Dr Volkov turned to her and started to speak to her, but she wasn’t paying attention to what he was saying. She needed to get out.

 

“Peggy.”

 

She froze. They never used that name here.

 

“ _Peggy._ ” This time with more urgency.

 

Reacting to the sound of her name, she suddenly realised she could move, her limbs were free. Her arms and legs thrashed, trying to stop the inevitable hands that would grip her as soon as they realised their mistake. Her right elbow made contact with something and she heard a sharp intake of breath. Her eyes blinked open. She was in Steve’s bedroom.

 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

 

She turned at the sound of Steve’s voice. He held his hand to his face.

 

“You were having a nightmare, I heard you cry out and I...” he looked lost. “I’m sorry.”

 

What was he sorry for? She checked herself over, making sure there were no marks, but Steve was right, it was just a nightmare.

 

She turned back to ask just as he pulled his hand away from his face. Her stomach dropped when she saw the blood, dripping down from his nose, smeared across his hand and upper lip. She’d hurt Steve.

 

She bolted from the bed, pulling on clothes. She felt sick as she grabbed her sparse collection of belongings and threw them into her backpack. She could feel Steve’s eyes on her but she couldn’t stay, she couldn’t put him in danger a second longer. He didn’t protest as she walked out.

 

* * *

 

Steve was so angry with himself. Peggy had trusted him, she’d started to let her guard down around him, and he’d been careless.

 

When he’d heard her cries his instinct had been to comfort her, but he could see now how it looked from her perspective. He’d barged into her room while she was sleeping and loomed over her, trying to wake her up. He didn’t blame her for lashing out.

 

He stayed in the apartment for a few days, in case she came back, but he knew it was pointless, she’d taken her belongings. He just hoped she wouldn’t end up in Hydra’s hands again.

 

* * *

 

He saw her at the diner. Just a glimpse, but he knew it was Peggy with a crushing certainty. After that he made sure he went back at the same time every day, sat at the same table. The next time he saw her, a few days later, she made eye contact with him. He held her gaze. She nodded before she got up and left.

 

Steve hated the distance between them, he hated that they couldn’t just go home and hash things out. But whatever they had between them was so fragile. Peggy was slowly getting her life back, slowly remembering him and the connection they shared, but that didn’t mean he was entitled to any part in her future.

 

* * *

 

Peggy got to the diner early, she knew Steve would be there. Six o’clock, on the dot. But this time she sat at his table. The look of surprise on Steve’s face was exactly what she’d expected, but he slid into the seat opposite her without a word. He waited, clearly uneasy.

 

She wanted to apologise, bridge the gap between them with an explanation, but she couldn’t seem to string a sentence together, so instead she held out her hand. Steve took it without hesitation.

 

They sat in silence for a long time, hands clasped on top of the table. Eventually Steve started to rub his thumb back and forth over her wrist. God, she’d missed him. She wanted to keep him safe, but she couldn’t stay away.

 

“I’m sorry, Peggy.”

 

She looked up, confused.

 

“I’m sorry I frightened you. It won’t happen again.”

 

She shook her head, beginning to understand. “You didn’t frighten me Steve.”

 

He didn’t look convinced.

 

“How’s your nose?”

 

She could’ve predicted the way his shoulders hunched as he shook his head, waving it off. It was so _Steve_ to brush off his injury.

 

“I hurt you, Steve, and not for the first time.”

 

“I’m fine. It’s healed already.”

 

She sighed, exhausted. She missed the safety and comfort of Steve’s apartment, the place itself was a hole, but with him there it was a safe haven in a world she still felt so lost in.

 

“I can’t keep putting you in harm’s way,” she said quietly, her hand still gripping his.

 

Steve waited until she looked up, holding her gaze.

 

“I think you’re worth the risk.”

 

She looked away, blinking quickly.

 

“If you still feel safe there, I want you to come back to the apartment.”

 

“I’ll think about it,” she said, giving his hand a final squeeze before letting go. She felt Steve’s eyes on her as she stood up and walked away.

 

* * *

 

Steve poured himself another cup of coffee and downed half the cup before he got back to his desk. He was stuck on the late shift again. Sousa and Yauch had gone to check out a lead, so at least he was alone in the office. He spent most of the time drawing and waiting for the phone to ring.

 

He sipped his coffee while sketching things he’d seen throughout the day. Most of it was mundane, a car that had caught his eye, flowers in a store window, but as he drew his mind would wonder. The curve of a petal would become the curve of Peggy’s lips, and his hand would continue of its own accord, framing her smile with the dimples you only saw if you really made her happy.

 

The phone rang, making him jump. He couldn’t get caught drawing Peggy at work, he stashed the sketch pad away before picking up the phone.

 

“You were close with the Winter Soldier, before she was the Winter Soldier, I mean. Weren’t you?” Sousa’s voice was shaky as he asked Steve over the phone.

 

“Yeah, I was.” Steve replied calmly. Surely he hadn’t slipped up already.

 

Sousa sighed heavily over the line, he sounded drained. “You’d recognise her face?”

 

“Yes,” Steve replied.

 

Sousa paused for a long moment before he spoke again. “I need you to identify a body.”


	6. Chapter 6

This wasn’t right, Peggy didn’t deserve this. She’d only ever tried to be a force for good in the world, and in return she’d been twisted and used.

 

Steve didn’t care what Sousa was saying to him, explaining how they’d found her, claiming it hadn’t been their fault. He pulled back the sheet and the overwhelming relief was quickly chased by guilt. It wasn’t Peggy, but it was still a young woman.

 

Steve shook his head, covering her back up. He hoped Sousa wasn’t lying about her already being dead when they found her. The woman bore a passing resemblance to Peggy and Steve wanted to believe that that was just a coincidence, that she hadn’t lost her life because of it.

 

“It’s not her,” was all he said before he walked out.

 

* * *

 

Peggy thought about Steve’s offer while she made the bed in the grotty bedsit she’d manged to rent. She thought about how safe she felt, dozing against his chest, wrapped up in his ridiculously big arms. Then the tap ran cold as she was trying to wash, and she was thinking about Steve’s bath as she packed up her belongings.

 

* * *

 

Peggy found another of Steve’s t-shirts to wear after her bath. She’d brought her sparse collection of clothes with her, so she really had no excuse to go rummaging through his drawers. But Steve’s clothes were comfortable.

 

Peggy was reading when Steve finally got home. She immediately knew something was wrong. He stood in the doorway, staring at her, his chest heaving. She walked over to him, pulling him inside and shutting the door.

 

“Steve?” She placed her hand on his cheek.

 

He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her against him. She could feel the quick puffs on this breath on her forehead.

 

“Are you ok?” He asked seriously, studying her face.

 

The question threw her. She banded her arms around him, holding him tight. “I’m fine. Did something happen?”

 

Steve shook his head, but the lines between his eyebrows remained. He held her so tight, like he never wanted to let go, and it surprised her just how soothing that was. With her body flush against his she began to feel heat pooling low in her belly, she looked at his slightly parted lips, barely an inch away from hers.

 

 _Christ_ , she wanted him. Leaning forward, ever so slowly, she pressed her lips to his. She heard Steve’s sharp intake of breath, but he didn’t move an inch. It was thrilling and calming at the same time, but what struck her was the overwhelming sense that she was coming home. This is where she was meant to be.

 

She knew she and Steve shared a connection, but his lips pressed to hers felt right in a way little else had she’d escaped Hydra’s clutches.

 

She parted her lips just slightly, experimentally, and felt more than heard Steve’s quiet moan. She took the lead, teasing Steve’s mouth open with her own, his lips pliant. He was gentle, letting her set the pace, but the way his fingers dug into her hips gave away just how strongly he reciprocated her feelings.

 

Peggy pulled back, eliciting a whine from Steve. She almost laughed as embarrassment caught up with him and colour rose in his cheeks. He looked so beautiful, his lips full and pink. When she tugged his arm and pulled him towards the bedroom, he didn’t protest.

 

Her hands got to work on the buttons of Steve’s shirt as soon as they were in the bedroom, she tugged his shirt and undershirt loose from his trousers, and pushed her hand under them, splaying low on his stomach. Steve seemed to snap out of his daze and pulled her hand away, looking at her seriously.

 

“You don’t owe me anything, Peggy.”

 

She laughed, but Steve’s expression remained serious. Mercifully, his fears were unfounded. For all the vile things her captors had done to her, everything they’d made her do, they had never used her like _that_.

 

Peggy pushed up on her toes, pressing her body against his, as she wrapped her arms around his neck. He was still studying her face, arms at his side.

 

“I want you,” she said seriously. “I came back because I want _this_.”

 

That seemed to be confirmation enough for Steve. He picked her up, his hands supporting her thighs as her legs wrapped around him, and carried her to the bed. As soon as he put her down his lips were on hers, kissing her breathless.

 

She unbuckled Steve’s belt and pushed down his trousers, which he promptly kicked away, his shirt and undershirt quickly following. He was glorious. Peggy traced her hand over Steve’s smooth skin, and he was so wonderfully responsive, his eyelids going heavy as she traced the peaks and dips of his muscular figure.

 

She spent a while just touching him, relishing in his breathy groans as her hands mapped his skin. Eventually Steve tugged at the hem of her shirt, _his_ shirt, and she took it for the request it was. She removed the t-shirt in one fluid movement.

 

Steve swallowed hard, she had nothing on underneath. She leaned back, enjoying the feel of Steve’s eyes on her.

 

It took him a moment to pull himself together, but when he did, it was magnificent. He moved over her, where she was resting against the pillows, and captured her lips in a needy kiss. His legs straddled her, body hovering over her, as his lips traced along her cheekbone, her jawline, then slowly down her neck. He was tentative as he moved lower, looking to her for reassurance.

 

With her nod of approval to placate him, Steve covered her in kisses, then followed the trail with his hand, gently, maddeningly tracing her skin. He took his time, trailing kisses down her arm, before moving back to her chest. It seemed like he was trying to map every part of her. It had her aching for him.

 

Mercifully he moved lower, lingering on her nipple as he captured it in his mouth, sucking gently. She groaned, arching her back, which only spurred Steve on. He continued, moving lower, licking and kissing his way down her body. It was intoxicating, but she needed more. She reached out, cupping him through his shorts, and felt a thrill when she realised he was already hard for her. She massaged him, murmuring his name.

 

“Peggy, wait –” Steve tried to warn her before he thrusted into her, his body going stiff on top of her. She realised what was happening a moment too late.

 

They were still, as Steve caught his breath.

 

“I’m sorry,” he finally said, without meeting her eyes. “It’s just…” His ears were crimson. “I’ve wanted this for a _very_ long time.”

 

As she looked down at his hunched shoulders, his head bowed in embarrassment, she felt so deeply protective of him. She now knew for certain something she’d suspected from her research, that she’d felt something for him long before the serum had changed his physique.

 

“It’s alright, my darling,” she murmured.

 

Steve’s head snapped up.

 

“Let’s try again,” she said softly, cupping his cheek.

 

He nodded, and she recognised the determination set in his features. He dipped his head, resuming his trail of kisses, but when he reached her lower stomach he stopped abruptly, looking up at her. His warm hands still held her hips.

 

“Is something the matter?”

 

Steve’s brow furrowed. “I’ve never done this before.”

 

Peggy pushed herself up, resting on her elbows. “With anyone?”

 

He shook his head.

 

She remembered when he’d admitted that to her before, though not in so many words. It surprised her that in the years since then, he still hadn’t found anyone. She wondered whether that was by choice.

 

“I’ll show you,” she murmured.

 

What Steve lacked in experience, he more than made up for in enthusiasm. Peggy guided his hand, showing him where and how to touch her, but he didn’t need her guidance for long. His mouth replaced his hand without needing Peggy’s instruction.

 

She fell back against the pillow as Steve worked her over with his tongue, her groans spurring him on. He used his fingers as well, and it didn’t take long before Peggy could feel herself getting close to the edge. She nudged Steve, and was just coherent enough to be able to tell him to speed up.

 

He brought her to an overwhelming peak and she cried out, gripping his shoulders.

 

She groaned Steve’s name as he kissed his way back up her body. He looked incredibly pleased with himself as he hovered over her, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of her mouth.

 

“Not bad for your first try.” Her voice wasn’t as steady as she wanted it to be.

 

Steve’s smile was dazzling.

 

He settled next to her, nuzzling her shoulder, but Peggy wasn’t done with him yet. When she caught her breath she pulled Steve’s lips back to hers, and he complied eagerly. She pushed his underwear down, freeing him. He was so wonderfully ready for her. She took him in hand, stroking firmly.

 

He was so responsive to her touch, wrapping himself around her. She kept up a good pace, revelling in Steve’s breathy groans.

 

It didn’t take him long at all, and his hips began jutting into her touch.

 

“Come for me, my darling,” she murmured, and Steve fell apart.

 

When he’d recovered, he blinked up at her. “You used to call me that sometimes, when we were alone.”

 

Peggy placed her hand on his chest. She hadn’t given much thought to the term of endearment, it had felt natural.

 

“Do you like it?” She asked.

 

Steve cupped her cheek, pulling her lips to his in response. “ _Yes_ ,” he murmured between kisses.

 

She pulled him over her and his weight pressed her into the mattress, while his free hand traced up and down her side. She felt content in a way she couldn’t remember ever feeling, the feel of Steve surrounding her was grounding, a sanctuary, she wanted to stay pressed against him for as long as she could take it.

 

She could feel him hard again already, and desire pooled low in her stomach.

 

“I _need_ you.”

 

Steve didn’t need to be told twice. He braced himself on his elbows, and Peggy guided him in. It was every bit as satisfying as she’d hoped, to have him fill her so completely. They stayed still for a moment, savouring the feel of each other.

 

Steve gazed down at her, he looked love drunk.

 

“Are you alright?” She asked, barely above a whisper.

 

“Never better.”

 

Steve captured her smiling lips in a kiss.

 

She patted his hips and he started to move against her. His movements were stiff at first, but she guided him, encouraging him as his thrusts became smoother. They took it slow, savouring each other. They’d already reached their own peaks, they weren’t in a rush.

 

This was so unlike the world Peggy had known for so long, a world of punishment, torture, negative reinforcement. She’d only been touched to be harmed. They’d blurred any memories that told her there was any other way.

 

But now she was clawing back her memories, reclaiming them. And she was reclaiming this. Steve’s touch brought her comfort, safety, pleasure. She didn’t want to shy away from it, she wanted to drown herself in it.

 

She realised Steve was watching her, his body still.

 

“Alright?” He asked.

 

She nodded.

 

“Are you getting close?”

 

Peggy bit her lip, and that was answer enough for Steve.

 

“Show me,” he said.

 

She guided his hand between them, and they picked up the pace. Steve learned quickly. He brought her to another peak, and as her eyes rolled back into her head she felt Steve’s body stiffen, his groans letting her know he’d quickly followed her over the edge. He fell on top of her, panting.

 

Peggy was still in a daze when Steve began to move. Her limbs felt like jelly as Steve rearranged her, wrapping her up in his arms. He pulled the blanket over them, pressing a hard kiss to her temple.

 

She felt so loved, with Steve holding her tight.

 

* * *

 

Steve woke with Peggy in his arms. It was the third time she’d stayed with him since that night, the night they’d made love. He still wasn’t sure where she went when she wasn’t staying at his place, but he didn’t ask, the fact that she kept coming back was enough. He stayed where he was, watching her.

 

She looked more peaceful than he’d seen her in a long time, and he understood. With her skin against his, the warmth of her body pressed against him, he felt like nothing in the world could hurt him.

 

Eventually she began to stir. He leaned down to plant a soft kiss on her forehead, and she hummed in contentment.

 

“Aren’t you going to get that?” She murmured, her words heavy with sleep.

 

He noticed the shrill ring of the phone coming from the hallway.

 

“It’s not important.” Nothing seemed more important than holding Peggy in his arms.

 

He waited for it to stop ringing, but it stopped only to start up again minutes later. He sighed, hoping it would let up.

 

Peggy nudged him.

 

“Fine.” He reluctantly rolled out of bed and pulled on his shorts before heading to the hallway.

 

He picked up the ringing phone. “What?”

 

“Charming, as always.” Thompson’s voice was the last thing he wanted to hear on the other end of the line. Steve considered slamming the phone down and going back to bed.

 

“I need you to get to the office,” Thompson continued.

 

The words _fuck off_ were on Steve’s lips, but just as he opened his mouth, Thompson spoke again.

 

“We have a photo of the Winter Soldier not far from your apartment.”

 

Steve’s blood ran cold.

 

“Sousa trailed her for a few blocks, but managed lose her. He should’ve called it in and left it to the professionals.” He sounded pissed off. About Sousa losing her trail, or about Sousa being the one to find her in the first place, it was unclear.

 

Steve knew he had to get to the office, he couldn’t have them trailing her again. He told Thompson he’d be there soon, and hung up.

 

Peggy raised an eyebrow at Steve as he came back to the bedroom. She clearly knew something was wrong, she’d always been able to read him like a book. He stood with his hands on his hips as he relayed Thompson’s news.

 

“ _Shit,_ ” Peggy cursed under her breath, falling back against the pillows. “I’ve gotten too complacent.”

 

“It’s not your fault.” He should’ve been at work to throw them off her trail. “I need to go in, make sure they don’t have anything else.”

 

Steve started getting dressed. He could feel Peggy’s eyes on him, following him as he moved around the room, picking a shirt from his closet, socks from the drawer. It felt strangely intimate, getting dressed in front of Peggy, even though she’d helped him undress the night before.

 

When he was finished he sat on the bed beside her, his fingers traced lightly over her collarbone, her skin was so warm under his touch.

 

“Will you still be here when I get back?” His words came out barely above a whisper as he tried to keep the desperation out of his voice.

 

Peggy wrapped her fingers around his, pulling them up to her lips. She kissed his fingertips one by one.

 

“I will.”

 

* * *

 

The photograph was blurry and they’d only caught the side of her face, but it was definitely Peggy, just two blocks from his apartment. Steve tried to keep his expression neutral as he gave the picture back to Thompson.

 

“How long ago was this taken?”

 

“Yesterday.” Thompson was smug. “I’ve sent a team out scouring the area, I’m surprised you didn’t bump into them.”

 

Steve wasn’t surprised. Knowing the team Thompson would send, he expected they’d be holed up in either a diner or a bar.

 

“I wouldn’t bother,” Steve replied, trying to keep his expression blank. “She’ll be long gone.”

 

“That what you think?”

 

“Yeah.” He looked down at the photo. “She was a highly skilled, well-trained spy, even before Hydra got to her. If she’s been spotted, she’ll know about it, and she won’t be hanging around.”

 

Thompson took a swig of his drink, looking Steve over.

 

“You’re not still soft on her, by any chance?”

 

Steve’s heart raced. He swallowed thickly, trying not to give himself away.

 

“Of course not, Chief. I want her captured and brought to justice.” The words felt bitter in his mouth. “That’s why I’m offering my advice. She’ll have moved on by now.”

 

Thompson smiled at him, leaning back in his chair, and Steve realised it was probably the first time he’d ever addressed Thompson by his title.

 

“Good, I’m glad we have you on board.”

 

Steve nodded, standing to leave.

 

“But I’m not going to call off the search in Brooklyn,” he continued. “I’m not leaving a stone unturned until my men can assure me she’s not there.”

 

Steve turned quickly, leaving before Thompson could notice his jaw clench and his brow furrow.

 

* * *

 

Peggy was in the bath when Steve got home, she called out to him and he shrugged out of his jacket, crossing the apartment to the bathroom. He leaned against the doorframe, arms folded.

 

Peggy was sprawled lazily in the bath, one leg resting along the side. Her hair was up, although a few loose strands clung to her damp neck, and the colour was high on her cheeks, warming her complexion. She looked beautiful.

 

“Stop staring and come over here.”

 

She said it with enough warmth that Steve knew she was teasing, but he obeyed, crossing the room in one stride and sitting down on the floor beside the bath. Steve reached out, placing his hand flat on the surface of the water. He moved his fingers slowly, watching the ripples they caused.

 

“What’s wrong?”

 

He looked up to realise Peggy was watching him.

 

He sighed. “They’re still searching the area, I couldn’t convince Thompson to call it off. You’ll have to lay low for a while.”

 

Peggy snorted. “I’ve been laying low for months, that’s nothing new.”

 

Steve kept his eyes on the water.

 

“It’s not fair,” he said quietly. “You’ve done nothing wrong.”

 

“I’ve killed innocent people,” she said matter-of-factly.

 

“That wasn’t _you_.”

 

Peggy took his hand, holding it to her lips. She didn’t reply.

 

“It wasn’t your fault.” He took a deep breath. “I joined the SSR after the war because I was lost. Because I’d failed you, I’d lost you, and I needed to do something to make things right.”

 

Peggy squeezed his hand.

 

“We’d won the war, but there was still so much wrong with the world. I thought the SSR would continue your legacy, would continue fighting for what was right.” He shook his head, taking another breath. “I guess I just don’t know who I’m fighting for anymore.”

 

It was quiet for a moment, before Peggy replied.

 

“Were you always this dramatic?”

 

Steve looked up to see her smiling. He chuckled, she probably had a point.

 

Peggy let go of his hand and he rested it against her chest. Under his splayed palm, he could feel the flutter of her heart beating.

 

“The war changed everyone, us more than most.” Peggy’s voice was tinged with sadness. “But none of us can go back.”

 

She placed her hand over his. “All we can do is our best, and sometimes the best that we can do is to start over.”

 

Peggy had always been a source of strength and guidance for Steve, but he felt it so keenly in moments like this.

 

“Come here,” she murmured.

 

Steve leaned forward obediently, expecting a kiss. As he shifted, leaning over the tub, Peggy smacked her hand down against the water, spraying water across Steve’s face and shirt. She threw her head back in laughter as Steve blinked, wiping his face.

 

“Oh, you’re gonna pay for that,” he teased, flicking water back at her.

 

She laughed, sounding so care-free in a way she hadn’t for so long, and pulled at Steve’s shoulders, trying to pull him into the bath, fully clothed.

 

He slid his arms under her, scooping her up against his chest.

 

“Put me down!” She protested, splashing water at him again.

 

“Don’t start something you can’t finish,” he said as he stood with her in his arms.

 

He looked around the room, trying to figure out his next move, when Peggy patted his chest.

 

“On the counter.” She nodded to the towel she’d slung on the countertop by the sink, and Steve carried her over, sitting her on top of it.

 

As soon as he’d put her down she was pulling him back, pulling him between her thighs as she wrapped her legs around him. She looked him over, dragging her lower lip between her teeth. Steve’s wet shirt clung to his skin, and Peggy peeled it off him slowly, seeming to savour the task, and then her lips were on him. His head tipped back as she worked her way over him. It felt unbelievable, he wasn’t sure how he managed to stay standing.

 

When he felt Peggy’s hands unbuckle his belt, he came back to himself, looking down at her. His hands skimmed across her shoulders, down then up her arms, then down her sides. He wanted to touch every inch of her, learn what she loved, what drove her wild with pleasure.

 

Peggy shoved Steve’s trousers and shorts down and opened her legs wider for him. He worked her over a little, remembering what she’d taught him, before he guided himself into her. She felt incredible.

 

Peggy pulled his lips to hers and kissed him thoroughly as they began to move. He cupped her breast while he thrusted, his thumb skimming over her nipple. She seemed to like that a lot, groaning into his mouth when he circled it again. He remembered she’d liked that before, when he’d captured her nipple in his mouth. He made sure to commit that to memory.

 

With the soft feel of Peggy’s breast in his palm while she clenched around him, it didn’t take him long. She groaned his name and it tipped him wonderfully over the edge, he was falling apart in her arms.

 

He continued to thrust against her lazily, as she stroked his back. When he’d finally pulled himself together, he pulled back to look at Peggy.

 

“Did you...” he wasn’t sure how to ask.

 

She shook her head, smiling. “No, but it was wonderful watching you.”

 

Steve placed his hands on Peggy’s hips and got on his knees. He had no intention of leaving her unsatisfied.

 

* * *

 

Despite teasing Steve about his concerns, Peggy knew he had a right to be worried. Although she’d been the SSR’s target for a while, things had changed, being stationary put her at risk. Whenever they’d managed to get close to her before she’d been able to run, she could retreat into the shadows and find a new hideout, but now, despite the sense of safety she felt around Steve, she was tied to one place.

 

She had no desire to pick up and run again, at least not without Steve, so she needed to come up with a different strategy.

 

“You want me to tell Thompson I just happened to stumble across one of Hydra’s main headquarters?” Steve looked sceptical.

 

“Of course not, it would be far too easy to connect the dots and realise you’ve been searching for me in your own time. That much interest in a target won’t do you any favours. You’ll make a phone call, an anonymous tip.”

 

“Oh I see, so a civilian just stumbled across one of Hydra’s main headquarters. Much more realistic.”

 

Peggy nudged Steve as he snorted.

 

“A civilian won’t describe it as Hydra’s headquarters. You’ll just call in some suspicious activity in the area, enough to pique their interest.”

 

Steve mulled it over for a minute.

 

“It would keep them busy,” he took her hand, squeezing it gently, “away from the apartment.”

 

She nodded. “It will buy us some time.”

 

Steve agreed, and they worked out the details of the plan. In the end Peggy had to be the one to make the call, Steve had attempted several different accents, each one more atrocious than the last, before Peggy had announced it a lost cause and made the phone call herself with a seamless American lilt.

 

Since Steve had already forced his way in several weeks earlier, Hydra had all but cleared out of the place, which didn’t surprise Peggy. Fortunately, it seemed they’d left in a hurry, leaving behind enough equipment to keep the SSR occupied for a while.

 

Steve inspected a lot of it on his visits to the site and relayed that information to Peggy. It seemed to be a collection of medical supplies, easily replaceable, and various tools they’d used in their torture methods. The most valuable items were gone, with the exception of a heavy metal chair, which was bolted to the floor and connected to a mass of electronic equipment.

 

Peggy had paled at Steve’s description, biting down subconsciously as the sound of her own screams pushed against her skull, panic crawling under her skin. But Steve’s hand on her arm had grounded her, it brought her back to the present.

 

She tried not to focus on all she had lost in that chair, because with it out of Hydra’s hands, it could no longer be used as a tool to tear her to pieces. Their power was being stripped away from them, after so many years of them stripping away hers.


	7. Chapter 7

With Peggy practically living in his apartment, Steve decided some changes were needed to make her feel more at home. He emptied out two drawers and cleared some space in his closet, offering them to Peggy awkwardly. It occurred to him too late that it might be presumptuous to assume she wanted to keep her belongings in his apartment, but when he motioned towards the empty drawers, she’d smiled brightly before kissing him on the cheek.

 

She quickly filled them with new clothes, including a small array of dresses that hugged her figure, the style she’d used to favour, a green blouse that suited her complexion perfectly, and high heeled shoes that accentuated her legs. It was a mixture of the kind of styles that Steve remembered Peggy wearing before, as well as some newer, more practical outfits.

 

The shelf in the bathroom was also well received by Peggy. Crimson red lipstick was the first item on the shelf as she slowly began to fill it with products. But the most welcome change, by far, were Steve’s efforts to regularly heat the apartment. Peggy had made it explicitly clear how grateful she was to come home to a warm apartment.

 

They’d even begun making an effort in the kitchen. Neither Steve nor Peggy were particularly adept at cooking, but with some solid teamwork, they manged to pull together a few decent meals.

 

* * *

 

They’d had a quiet, domestic weekend. Steve was milling around the kitchen, looking for ingredients Peggy was listing off, when there was a knock at his apartment door. They shared a look. He didn’t have visitors often.

 

There was another knock, a banging fist louder than before.

 

“Open up Cap, we know you’re in there.”

 

Hearing Dugan’s gruff voice was a relief. Steve went to the door, closing the lobby door behind him so Peggy wasn’t in plain view.

 

“Fellas,” he nodded as he opened the door. Bucky was with him, looking apologetic.

 

“We come bearing gifts,” Dugan grinned, holding up a bottle of bourbon. It was only three quarters full. “I got thirsty on the way,” he explained, following Steve’s gaze.

 

“I appreciate the thought, but it’s really not a good time.” Steve felt bad about turning them away, but he didn’t know if seeing old friends would help Peggy, or overwhelm her.

 

“We’re not taking no for an answer,” Dugan said, planting the bottle in Steve’s hand and pushing past him, into the apartment.

 

“He was worried, we’ve barely seen you since the anniversary drinks for Peggy,” Bucky explained, his voice low. “I tried to talk him out of it.”

 

Steve shook his head. “It’s alright.”

 

“ _Holy shit_.” Dugan’s yell had Steve and Bucky running into the apartment.

 

He stopped when he saw Dugan standing opposite Peggy. Bucky turned to Steve, panic clear on his face.

 

“It’s alright, she’s more herself now,” Steve explained.

 

Dugan crossed the room in two swift strides and wrapped his arms around Peggy, lifting her off the ground. Steve’s heart hammered in his chest as he waited for Peggy’s reaction, but she simply laughed, rolling her eyes.

 

She hugged him back for just a moment before scolding him. “For heaven’s sake, put me down.”

 

Dugan was openly sobbing when he put Peggy back on her feet. He kept one hand on her arm, as though he was afraid she might disappear if he let go. Steve knew the feeling.

 

“Why don’t I pour us all a glass,” Steve offered. It broke the tension well enough.

 

The three of them settled on the couch while Steve poured the drinks. He had to pull over a chair from the kitchen to sit on, he wasn’t used to having company.

 

Peggy briefly explained how she was alive and in Steve’s apartment, glossing over the details. She studied the bottom of her glass when she talked about it, about Hydra using her, twisting her.

 

Bucky was quiet as she talked, looking from Peggy to Steve, taking it all in. In contrast, Dugan was openly emotional, sniffing as Peggy brushed over her years of torture. He placed his calloused hand over Peggy’s and she smiled at him warmly.

 

“We saw the base go up in flames. We searched for you for weeks.” Dugan’s voice was strained as he spoke. “How did you get out alive?”

 

Peggy took a deep breath before she spoke. “I don’t remember.”

 

“They wiped a lot of her memories,” Steve explained. “She’s been working hard to get them back. She didn’t even remember who I was at first.” He smiled, trying to make light of it. He didn’t want to cause her anymore pain.

 

“I put him in the hospital,” Peggy added, sombrely.

 

“I’m sure he deserved it,” Dugan teased, breaking the tension.

 

* * *

 

Peggy was quiet after Bucky and Dugan left. It worried Steve, but he didn’t push. She’d seemed to enjoy their visit, she was in her element winding Dugan up over a bottle of bourbon, sharing the stories she could remember from the war. But when they left she seemed to withdraw.

 

They made dinner together without needing to say much, they were starting to feel more in sync, the way Steve remembered feeling around Peggy.

 

He wasn’t sure if she needed space, but when he sat on the bed sheepishly, Peggy reached for his shirt and pulled him on top of her, capturing his lips in a kiss.

 

A while later, when they were breathless and satisfied, Steve rolled Peggy onto her side and curled against her back.

 

“I’m going to New Jersey,” she announced.

 

“What’s in New Jersey?”

 

Peggy was quiet for a long moment before she replied. “A Hydra storage facility.”

 

Steve’s stomach churned.

 

When he didn’t reply, Peggy turned in his arms, looking up at him.

 

“I need to know what they did to me,” she said.

 

Steve’s jaw clenched.

 

“It’s not where they...” Peggy closed her eyes, shaking her head as though shaking off a bad thought. “They store a lot of their research there.”

 

Steve nodded. He wasn’t happy about it, but it wasn’t his decision to make.

 

“When do we leave?” He asked.

 

* * *

 

Steve followed Peggy into the facility with the expression of a wet cat. He’d been quiet and brooding on the drive over, which didn’t surprise Peggy. To say he hated the idea of taking her back to a Hydra facility would be an understatement. She was surprised he’d even agreed to it, though it was a relief.

 

The base wasn’t staffed full time, there was no point, it mostly contained files and wasn’t in a location anyone was likely to stumble across. Besides, Hydra had much more valuable assets to protect.

 

“Do you know exactly what we’re looking for?” Steve’s voice was low.

 

Peggy shrugged. “Anything that will give me an idea of what they did to me, but more specifically... I’m not sure.”

 

Steve nodded.

 

They found a room of alphabetised files, which seemed a good place to start. They found a file on Project Rebirth, it consisted partly of stolen papers from Dr Erskine, when he’d been under their control, and partly newspaper clippings relating to Steve. Overall it was sparse.

 

They had no luck finding any file on Peggy, so they moved on. It was an enormous space, but sparsely filled. Perhaps Hydra thought they’d eventually fill the space. The thought made Peggy nauseous.

 

They were in the basement when they first found any record of her. The room was small, with one wall of red boxes and a reading table. It smelt of damp. Peggy’s eyes scanned the labels on the boxes, some names sounded familiar, although she couldn’t quite place them. Her blood ran cold when she reached a name she recognised.

 

_Carter, Margaret_

 

She pulled it off the shelf and placed it on the table with a soft thud. Her hands were shaking as she lifted the lid.

 

The first file contained her medical records. Smoke inhalation, dislocated shoulder, hairline fracture, broken ribs, multiple bullet wounds, pneumonia, the list went on. It was a laundry list of injuries. Had they inflicted those on her to test her limits, or had they been a result of the tasks they sent her on?

 

She could feel Steve’s eyes on her as she thumbed through the pages. She handed him the file without saying a word, then reached for the next one. It was a research paper on the use of electroconvulsive therapy to induce memory loss.

 

Peggy’s blood ran cold. She flicked through it, trying to keep her breathing even, and gathered enough to get the gist of it. She’d been used as a test subject. Peggy swiped at her cheeks angrily, wiping away the tears. They’d stolen her memories for an _experiment_. She threw the file down on the table.

 

There was more, but she was shaking with anger. The title of the next file read “Physical Limits Test.” She wanted to punch something.

 

“Let’s take what we can and get out of here.” Steve’s voice was gentle.

 

She shoved what she could inside her jacket, she wanted to keep her arms free, just in case. Steve did the same. Putting the empty box back on the shelf, she raced up the stairs two at a time and shoved the door open, it hit the wall with a shattering bang, setting an alarm off.

 

Peggy cursed under her breath. She felt Steve at her back instantly, his hand on her waist.

 

“We need to get out, _now_.” She could hear the terror in his voice.

 

They ran for the exit as lights flashed and alarms blared. She could see shutters grinding down in her peripheral vision, she prayed the exit was still clear.

 

“Welcome home, Margaret.”

 

The voice stopped Peggy in her tracks, it sent chills down her spine.

 

Steve tugged at her arm. “Peggy, come on.”

 

She took a step but her limbs felt heavy, she knew that voice. They almost made it to the exit, the shutter was already half-closed.

 

“Leaving, so soon?”

 

Peggy stopped again, searching for the source of the noise. They were alone, she knew that. Steve pulled at her arm again, but at the same time she noticed the loudspeaker. She realised they were being watched.

 

“We’ve got plenty of work for you, Margaret. But I’d like you to start by completing the last request I asked of you.”

 

Peggy looked at Steve, his expression was pleading.

 

“Kill him.”

 

She took Steve’s hand and moved towards the exit.

 

“Longing.”

 

She almost fell as the force of the word pulled her to a stop.

 

“Rusted.”

 

“ _No_ ,” she screamed, pulling her hand from Steve’s grip to cover her ears. She wouldn’t go back, she’d made so much progress and claimed back so many memories, she couldn’t lose herself again.

 

She felt Steve’s hands on her, but she couldn’t focus on him.

 

“Nineteen.” The sound mingled with the smash of the shutter as it hit the floor.

 

Her eyes blinked open at the loss of Steve’s touch. He was at the exit, desperately trying to pull the shutter open.

 

“Daybreak.”

 

She could feel herself sinking, her head becoming cloudy. She moved heavily and picked up the nearest heavy object, a chair, and threw it with everything she had. It knocked the loudspeaker off the wall and left it dangling by a wire.

 

Peggy breathed deeply, trying to regain control of herself. Steve was still struggling with the shutter. It was designed to contain people like them, enhanced humans.

 

“Furnace.” The sound was distant, tinny, but it still pulled at the corners of her mind.

 

She wasn’t going to let them take anything else from her.

 

She ran towards the shutter, curling her fingers under the small gap Steve was desperately keeping open. She pulled with all the strength she had and managed to open up a gap large enough to allow Steve to wedge the chair into it. It gave them just enough time to escape, before the chair was crushed under its force.

 

Steve pulled Peggy up as soon as they were outside and held her against his side as they ran.

 

* * *

 

Peggy didn’t talk on the ride back. She was slumped in her seat, head back, staring out the window. She looked utterly drained.

 

Steve didn’t know what to say to her, how to comfort her. He hadn’t plucked up the nerve to ask, but what he gathered from the way she’d reacted back at the storage facility was that those words had power over her. He knew Hydra had been able to control her in the past, but he thought he’d got her back, he hadn’t imagined it would be so easy for them to take her again. It terrified Steve to his core.

 

It was getting dark, and Peggy looked like she needed to rest, so he pulled over when he saw the lit-up motel sign. Peggy didn’t say a word as Steve pulled up and got out of the car to go and book a room. She was in the same position when he got back to the car, having managed to get them a room as Mr & Mrs Barnes. The receptionist had been too busy trying to figure out where she recognised Steve from to notice he wasn’t wearing a ring.

 

The room was decent enough, passably clean with a good sized bed. Peggy sat heavily on the bed, and Steve joined her. Cautiously he reached out and took her hand in both of his. She didn’t pull away.

 

Steve took a deep breath. “Those words...”

 

“Trigger words,” Peggy replied, not meeting his gaze. “Ten words, said in a specific order, and I’m theirs again.” She turned to face him. “That’s all it takes.”

 

She looked so tired, so defeated. Steve reached over and pulled her into his lap, wrapping his arms around her tight. Peggy wound her arms around him in return, and pressed her face against his neck. They stayed like that for a while, just holding each other.

 

Steve played the day over in his mind, watching the panic on Peggy’s face when she’d heard her trigger words. He hated seeing her filled with fear, and feeling so helpless.

 

“There’s got to be a way to undo what they did to you, to stop whatever hold those words have over you,” he murmured, pressing a hard kiss to the top of her head.

 

“Howard’s been looking into it,” she mumbled against his neck.

 

Steve pulled back. “Howard?”

 

Peggy nodded. “I went to him when I needed help... financially. Scared him half to death.” She smiled at the memory. “He funded my trip back home, and I’ve asked him to carry out some research for me. The files we found today should help.”

 

It was a lot of information to take in. Steve had no idea Peggy had been in contact with Howard, and he wasn’t sure how to feel about it. But regardless of how he felt, he knew it was a good thing to have Howard and his resources on Peggy’s side.

 

Steve nodded. “We’ll take the files to him as soon as we get back.”

 

Peggy hummed in agreement, eyelids heavy.

 

“Let’s go to bed,” Steve said.

 

Peggy twisted in his arms and pushed him flat on the bed in one swift movement that took him by surprise. She laid down on top of him, before pressing her lips to his. Steve lifted his head, leaning into the kiss as Peggy’s tongue traced over his.

 

“This isn’t what I meant,” Steve said when they broke apart.

 

“I know.”

 

They were out of their clothes in minutes, and then Peggy pulled Steve over her. He sighed in relief at the feel of her skin pressed to his. She parted her legs for him and he entered her slowly, marvelling in the way her eyelids fluttered shut and her lips parted.

 

He made sure she found her release twice before he did, and when she was satisfied he quickly followed her.

He moved off of her as they caught their breath, but Peggy pulled at his arm lazily. It seemed she needed his comfort as much as he needed hers, and he was more than willing to oblige. He wrapped her up in his arms, arranging the covers over them as Peggy’s eyelids drifted shut.

 

It warmed Steve to see how unguarded Peggy was around him, it was a world away from the fear and uncertainty she’d shown when he’d first encountered her as the Winter Soldier. He vowed to himself that he would always be a safe place for her, no matter what. Holding her tight, he pressed a hard kiss to her temple. She was dozing, already.

 

“I love you,” he murmured.

 

A smile twitched at the corner of Peggy’s mouth. “I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd love to hear what people think of this story so far! Is it heading the way you expected? What surprised you the most? Your comments keep me motivated to keep posting!


	8. Chapter 8

Howard’s butler, Jarvis, lead them through to the cavernous reception area, where Howard was draped across a lounge chair, Bloody Mary in hand. Peggy dropped the stack of files on the coffee table in front of him. He glanced at the pile, rubbing his forehead, before looking up at them.

 

“Who’s this fine young man you’ve brought to meet your uncle Howard?”

 

“I don’t have time for your games, I need you to read what’s in those files. The information will be vital to the work you’ve been doing.”

 

“Always so charming, I can see why Steve’s smitten with you.”

 

Peggy rolled her eyes.

 

“Can I interest either of you in any refreshments? I’ll have Jarvis fix up another batch.” Howard downed the rest of his drink and slammed it down on the table.

 

He stood, unsteady on his feet and moved towards the door, but Peggy placed her hand on his chest, stopping him in his tracks.

 

“I’ll fetch a pot of coffee,” she said. “We’ve got work to do.”

 

* * *

 

They sat around a large oak table covered in coffee stained research papers and messily scribbled notes. Howard sipped his coffee, comparing his notes with the new information Peggy had provided. Apparently the files backed up what Howard had already gathered from his research. The words Peggy had been conditioned to respond to pulled her into a state of compliance by following established pathways in her brain.

 

“Neural pathways.” Howard said the phrase as though it was obvious. When he got no response, he continued. “They’ve created a highway in your brain that a specific set of words will lead you down.”

 

“Created?” Peggy prompted.

 

“Reinforced. In your case, most likely though negative reinforcement.”

 

She felt Steve stiffen at her side.

 

Howard bent over his research, engrossed in the stacks of papers. He read through them at lightning speed, seeming oblivious to the fact that Peggy and Steve were watching him, waiting for further explanation.

 

“This stuff is fascinating,” Howard mumbled mostly to himself.

 

Peggy took a deep breath, reminding herself that not only was Howard’s knowledge crucial to her recovery, but he was also a dear friend offering her help. “Whether or not it’s fascinating is beside the point. Can it be undone?”

 

Howard waved his hand in the air, as through the question was inconsequential. “Of course it can, the neuroplasticity of your brain will allow you to create new pathways, reinforce them until they’re strong enough to override the ones Hydra have created.” He finally looked up from his papers, filled his cup with coffee from the pot, and gulped it in down one go. “The real question is how.”

 

Despite his flair for the dramatics, Peggy was able to pull a sensible answer out of Howard. She had a few options she could try, with Howard’s help. She had to find a way to block the thought patterns Hydra had established, either by learning to associate her trigger words with different, happier memories, or by imagining a different behavioural response to them over and over until it stuck.

 

There was a third option. Aversion therapy. It involved associating the behaviours Hydra had drilled into her with unpleasant stimuli. Steve categorically ruled it out, and Peggy had no interest in disagreeing with him.

 

They got to work immediately.

 

* * *

 

The process was slow and incredibly draining. Through trial and error Peggy and Howard managed come up with a process that seemed to have the desired effect. They approached the words one at a time and tried to find a link to a happy memory, anything positive that Peggy could focus on.

 

Howard, for all his faults, was incredibly patient with her. She took her frustration and exhaustion out on him more than once, and he shouldered it until she was ready to get back to work.

 

Hearing a word that pulled her toward submission wasn’t easy, it took every ounce of her strength to keep her focus. Steve picked her up from Howard’s when he could, and when he couldn’t, Jarvis was more than happy to drive her home.

 

She warmed to Jarvis quickly. Their shared nationality made him feel familiar, as though she’d known him for years. They shared an easy banter on the days Peggy was feeling well enough for chitchat.

 

* * *

 

Peggy got out of the bath and dried herself off, wrapping the towel around her. It had been a long day at Howard’s. She assessed herself in the bathroom mirror, there were dark bags under her eyes, and her colour wasn’t great. All in all, she looked like shit.

 

She heard the key in the lock and Steve’s light footsteps as he padded across the apartment.

 

“I’m in the bathroom,” she called out.

 

Steve appeared behind her, brows furrowed. He met her eyes in the mirror before leaning down and placing a trail of kisses along her shoulder.

 

“How was today?” His voice was low against her skin.

 

She frowned.

 

“That bad?” He looked worried.

 

Peggy shook her head. “It’s working, I’m sure of that.” Howard had managed to get to the fifth word before she felt herself being pulled under, it was incredible progress.

 

“But?” Steve prompted.

 

“I’m stuck on some of the words.” She sighed, shoulders sagging. “Finding a happy memory that has a link to a specific word is... challenging.”

 

“What are you stuck on?”

 

“Nine.”

 

Steve considered it for a moment, his eyebrows pulled together just slightly as he concentrated.

 

“Does it have to be the number?” he finally said.

 

Peggy raised an eyebrow, meeting his eyes in the mirror. Steve placed his hand against her back, fingers splayed between her shoulder blades. The warmth and his touch were so incredibly soothing.

 

“What about the time you tried to teach me some German?” A small smile spread across his lips. “We’d set up camp just outside of Luxembourg, and we had time to kill. You offered to teach me a few words in exchange for my chocolate bar.”

 

She rolled her eyes at the memory. “You were dreadful.”

 

“A student is only as good as their teacher,” he retorted.

 

Peggy smacked his hip, though she couldn’t quite manage to wipe the smile off her face.

 

“Nine?” She questioned.

 

“Nein.” He clarified. “The answer I gave to half the questions you asked me.”

 

She laughed at the memory. “Your accent was terrible, but I thought you’d picked up enough to be able to respond to some basic phrases.”

 

Steve smiled, his thumb stroking back and forth against her skin.

 

“You answered everything I asked you with either ja or nein. Your name was nein, the weather was nein, you were born in nein.”

 

“I was distracted by the way your lips moved when you spoke German,” he confessed. The slight blush in his cheeks was so wonderfully endearing.

 

Steve wrapped his arms around her waist and she leant back into his embrace, her body vibrating against him as she laughed.

 

“We split the chocolate bar in the end, it felt wrong taking the entire thing when you’d learned so little.”

 

“I would’ve split it with you anyway, learning German was mostly just an excuse to spend time with you,” he smiled, resting his chin on her shoulder. “So it works? That memory?”

 

She twisted in his arms until she was facing him. “It works,” she replied, pressing a kiss to his lips.

 

* * *

 

The office was unusually busy when Steve arrived. Men he didn’t recognise milled around, pulling files from drawers, heads together over photographs, taking notes as they spoke to Steve’s colleagues. No one even looked up as Steve crossed the room, feeling uneasy.

 

He reached his desk to find a man he didn’t know sat in his chair, thumbing through a sparsely filled folder. One glance at the cover of the file was all Steve needed to piece everything together.

 

_Carter, Margaret._

 

The man finally looked up, pushing his glasses up his nose at he took Steve in. “This file appears to be missing a lot of valuable information, what can you tell me about that?”

 

“What are you implying?” Steve kept his voice even, as far as he knew they had no proof he was on Peggy’s side, there was no point in giving himself away now.

 

“It seems a dangerous conflict of interest to allow you to work on the Winter Soldier case, considering your romantic history with the main suspect. Don’t you agree?”

 

Steve’s fists clenched at his sides. The fanfare surrounding Steve’s relationship with Peggy had been unwelcome at the time, and downright gut-wrenching after Peggy’s death, when the media had twisted it into a tragic story of Captain America’s lost love. He didn’t welcome it being brought up now.

 

“I’ve made it clear to my colleagues that I no longer hold any romantic feelings towards the Winter Soldier. I want her brought to justice, just like everybody else in this room.”

 

The man smiled sympathetically, clearly unconvinced. Steve had always been a terrible liar.

 

“Of course you do.” He closed the file and placed it on Steve’s desk. “But with such a high-profile case, I think it’s best we don’t take any chances.”

 

The chair scraped loudly across the floor as he stood. “Today the Winter Soldier detonated an explosive device at a charity gala, killing Senator Irving and a total of thirteen government officials and civilians. In the wake of this event it has been decided that the SSR can no longer handle a case of this magnitude alone.”

 

Steve’s blood ran cold.

 

“Which is why the Federal Bureau of Investigation has stepped in. We’ll be collecting what we need over the coming days in order to carry out our investigation. The SSR may continue their activities, as long as they do not interfere with the activities of the FBI. However, your involvement in this particular case is no longer permitted, and I can assure you your Chief will back me up on this.”

 

Steve turned, almost subconsciously, towards Thompson’s office. Thompson was looking through the glass, arms folded, watching Steve’s exchange with the federal agent. He could swear Thompson almost looked apologetic.

 

* * *

 

Peggy sank down into the passenger seat as Jarvis started the engine. It had been another taxing day with Howard, but it was enormously comforting to know she was making progress.

 

“Where to, Miss Carter?”

 

“Home,” she replied, looking out the window. Occasionally she had Mr Jarvis drop her at a diner, not far from the apartment. He’d protested when she first made the request, insisting he could cook for her, but she hated to put him out more than she already was.

 

As the car pulled out of the monstrous gates that enclosed Howard’s mansion, a parked car across the road caught Peggy’s eye. She was certain she’d seen that same car parked opposite Howard’s gates twice before. She pushed aside the fear that began to rise inside her, and took note of the details of the car. She’d have to stay vigilant.

 

Steve was waiting in the apartment when she got home, which surprised her. He should have been at work. He looked up at her as soon as she shut the door, his features tight.

 

She crossed the room to him. “Has something happened?”

 

* * *

 

The news of the attack put her on edge. A high-profile attack leaving several high-ranking officials and civilians dead, they’d be out for blood. Her blood, specifically.

 

Steve wanted to leave, borrow a car from Howard and drive as far away as they could. He’d already put a few changes of clothes in a bag before she got home. Peggy was unsure. As much as she loved the idea of a quiet, secluded break with Steve, she knew it wasn’t realistic. There were enough people looking for her that it wouldn’t last, and she didn’t want to spend her life looking over her shoulder.

 

Steve paced as his mind worked, she knew he was trying to find a solution, some way to keep her safe. When he’d admitted he loved her, while she was wrapped up in his arms, she hadn’t been surprised. She realised she’d known it for a long time, and though she hadn’t quite manged to say the words aloud, she knew she felt the same.

 

“I’m going to turn myself in,” she announced.

 

Steve spun to face her, stunned. “ _Peggy._ ”

 

She sat heavily on the couch. “I can’t run away from this Steve. I have to face it if I want a shot at a life.”

 

“If you turn yourself in they’ll hang you.”

 

“I can make a deal, I have information on Hydra that will be invaluable to the SSR, and I have the support of both you and Howard Stark.”

 

“What if that’s not enough?” Steve’s voice was raised, his features pained.

 

_God_ , she hated the idea of hurting him, but she couldn’t see any way to avoid it.

 

“Steve,” she spoke softly, holding her hand out to him.

 

He crossed the room and sat beside her, taking her hand in both of his. He swiped his thumb back and forth over her wrist, it was such a calming motion.

 

She was so focused on Steve’s hands wrapped around hers and the comfort of his touch that the crash against the door threw her. Two successive bangs were followed by shouts, and suddenly the room was full of people. Peggy was pulled to her feet and turned instinctively, she swung and her fist connected with a jaw.

 

As the man stumbled away, rubbing his jaw, she felt Steve pull her against him, one arm protectively wrapped around her waist.

 

“Hand her over, Rogers,” the man she’d just punched spoke, his shoulders squared.

 

“Fuck off, Thompson.”

 

So they were SSR.

 

She felt Steve’s arm tighten around her. She knew his mind must be working a mile a minute, trying to put together an exit strategy. But Peggy had already made up her mind. She turned, looking up at Steve.

 

“I’m going to go with them.”

 

Steve looked upset, but he released his grip.

 

She turned, noting the surprise on Steve’s colleagues faces. There was no use in running, it would only make her seem guilty. Although many people had been harmed by her hands, and she intended to make up for that, she didn’t intend to hang for crimes she hadn’t committed.

 

* * *

 

They had Peggy locked in the interrogation room, cuffed to the table. Steve knew, without a doubt, that Peggy could break out if she wanted to, but that didn’t make him feel any better as he watched Thompson place the carrot and the stick on the table.

 

He watched Thompson’s routine from the viewing room, his eyes glued to Peggy, but Thomson seemed uncharacteristically reluctant to use any kind of physical force on her. The forming bruise on the left side of his face probably had something to do with that.

 

After almost an hour, Thompson slammed his hand down on the table and walked out, slamming, then locking the door behind him. Steve glanced at Peggy before following Thompson out to the hallway.

 

“She’s not giving anything up.” He was talking to Sousa as Steve approached. “Not without a deal.”

 

“She’s not responsible for the attack on Senator Irving,” Steve said.

 

“Your input isn’t needed here Rogers,” Thompson said. “The only reason you’re not in handcuffs too is because of who you are.”

 

Steve didn’t know if that was true or not, but he knew there were no cuffs or any room in the SSR that would hold him, and Thompson most likely knew that too.

 

“So, she wants a deal?” Sousa asked.

 

Thompson nodded. “She’ll give us all the information she has on Hydra and the Winter Soldier project, in exchange for immunity.”

 

Sousa opened his mouth to speak, but Thompson raised his hand. “We don’t negotiate with terrorists. I’ll get the information out of her, by whatever means necessary.”

 

Steve’s fists clenched at his sides.

 

Thompson rubbed his forehead. “She’s even lying about her involvement in the attack on Senator Irving.”

 

Sousa shifted uncomfortably, holding a file out to Thompson. “She may not be lying about that one, Chief.”

 

Thompson glared at the file before looking up at Sousa.

 

“These are photographs of her leaving Howard Stark’s mansion at the time of the attack,” Sousa explained.

 

Thompson’s jaw clenched as he snatched the folder and started sifting through it.

 

“My office. Now.” His voice was low as he stalked past Sousa, the file still in his hand.

 

* * *

 

Peggy looked up as Agents Thompson and Sousa entered the room, closely followed by Steve. She’d picked up early on that Steve didn’t hold either of them in particularity high regard. Thompson, especially.

 

Thompson looked smug as he loomed over her, hands in his pockets. “I’ll humour you for a minute. Say you didn’t carry out the murder of Senator Irving.”

 

He scraped the chair along the floor, pulling it around the table and sitting down, so they were face to face. He lowered his voice as he leant in towards her. “Say there was solid evidence that you were halfway across the city at the time of the attack. Someone carried out that attack with all the hallmarks of a Hydra job. Now that leaves us two options.”

 

He held up his fingers in an unnecessarily dramatic display. “Either you’ve got a copycat. Which I find highly unlikely. Or, you’re not the only person in the Winter Soldier program.”

 

Peggy held her breath, her chest tight.

 

“Now I can turn you over to the FBI, but that still leaves the Senator’s killer in the loose, and Hydra at large. Now I didn’t get where I am today by only doing half the job.”

From the way Steve spoke about Thompson, Peggy knew that was far from the truth. He clearly had an inflated sense of his achievements.

 

“So here’s my solution. You lead us to Hydra, and I can go back to the brass having dismantled Hydra and captured all the recruits in the Winter Soldier program, and in return for your cooperation, all charges against you will be dropped.” He sat back in his seat, smiling smugly.

 

Peggy took a deep breath. “It’s a wonderfully thought out plan,” she said, hoping he missed the mocking edge to her voice, “but I’m not confident I can tell you where Hydra’s current base is. They’ll most likely have moved on by now, it’s standard protocol after a security breach.” She glanced at Steve.

 

“I don’t need you to tell me where they are.” The glimmer in Thompson’s eye as he leaned forward in his chair made her feel uneasy. “You’re going to show me.”

 

Peggy’s stomach dropped.

 

“You’ll be captured by Hydra, and meet with us at a rendezvous point when they let you out. Once you’ve collected enough information, we can bring them down.”

 

“No.” Steve crossed the room and stood between Peggy and Thomson, his fists clenched at his sides. He had his back to Peggy, but she could see he was shaking with anger. She wanted to reach out to him, soothe him.

 

“You’re not sending her back to them.”

 

Thompson rose, squaring his shoulders as he tried to match Steve’s stance. “With all due respect, Rogers, this isn’t your call.”

 

Peggy took a deep breath as she considered her options. The idea of willingly walking back into the hands of Hydra filled her with a bone-deep terror, but she’d already made up her mind. She looked up, meeting Thompson’s gaze.

 

“I’ll do it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was anyone expecting this?? I love reading your comments! Please let me know what you think!


	9. Chapter 9

The men filed out, leaving Peggy alone with Steve in the interrogation room. He turned to her, head hung and shoulders slumped, reminding her so painfully of that small Private at Camp Lehigh.

 

“Steve.” She spoke softly.

 

He didn’t meet her eyes as he stepped closer and reached for her wrist, snapping the handcuff off her in one quick movement. He held her hand in his, thumb swiping softly over the raw indentations on her skin.

 

“I let you go once,” he said quietly. “I left you within their reach, alone, and walked away.” He finally met her gaze, his eyes glassy. “I can’t hand you over to them again.”

 

It didn’t surprise her that he blamed himself for what Hydra had done to her. She moved closer to him, felling the puffs of his breath against her temple.

 

“We walked away from countless Hydra facilities during the war, Steve, we all began to feel over-confident after so many wins. You weren’t to know that base was a trap.”

 

The creases between his brows stayed fixed in place, she wanted to reach up and smooth them away, smooth his guilt away.

 

“I don’t blame you for what happened to me, Steve.”

 

He held her gaze, searching for something, waiting for any glimmer of doubt in her statement, but she stood firm. She didn’t hold him accountable in any way for what had been done to her.

 

“I need to do this,” she tried again.

 

His body was pressed so close to hers, she could feel him shaking.

 

“This is my chance to atone for what I’ve done.”

 

He shook his head, visibly upset. “You haven’t done anything Peggy, you’re a victim in all this.”

 

“Innocent people died at my hands.”

 

Steve’s jaw clenched. “You were used.”

 

Peggy nodded. She knew he was right, even though the guilt still tugged at her.

 

She took a deep breath. “Regardless of whether or not I’m responsible, I have a chance to help.”

 

“And if they take away your memories again, what then?” Steve’s voice was strained, the hurt barely contained.

 

His words felt like a punch in the gut.

 

“The SSR recovered their…” she stumbled, the words she needed to say felt jumbled in her mouth, the buzz of electricity rang in her ears, “equipment,” she finally managed. “They don’t have the ability to take my memories anymore.”

 

“You can’t guarantee that.”

 

“You’re right, I can’t. But I can guarantee that if nothing is done to stop them, Hydra will kill more innocent people. I can stop more unnecessary deaths, I can stop Hydra using other people the way they’ve used me. I’m not going to walk away from that chance.”

 

Steve finally nodded, his breathing uneven. He wrapped his arms around her and she sighed as she sagged against him.

 

“I need to do this,” she said quietly.

 

He held her tighter, and they stayed wrapped up together in silence for a long time. “I know,” Steve said eventually, his voice quiet. “I just worry.”

 

She understood. She was petrified, but at the same time she felt freer than she had in a long time. This was her chance to take control of her life, to be a force for good, to make the kind of choice she would have made before Hydra had twisted and manipulated her.

 

* * *

 

The plan was established with Peggy’s consent. Peggy was to go out alone, making herself visible until she was captured. The assumption was that Hydra would use her code words in order to get her to comply, and she would pretend to be under their control.

 

Steve was uneasy about the plan. Howard’s work with Peggy had yielded great results so far, but it had all been tested in a relatively safe environment. There was no knowing how she would react in the real situation.

 

The plan went off without a hitch in regards to Peggy being captured. Steve watched from a distance in case things got out of hand. He felt sick as he watched them drag her into a van and drive away.

 

* * *

 

It was two weeks before Peggy was able to contact Steve. She had to prove her loyalty, not that it took much. They still believed the code words were effective.

 

They sent her out once, on a low risk assignment, and trailed her the entire time. She endured one round of shock therapy, days of starvation, and vile living conditions. She assumed it all served as punishment for her disobedience.

 

She began to worry they might never trust her, that she might have a tail every time she left the facility. Then the heavy metal door to her cell was wrenched open, she was pulled to her feet and led to a cold, brightly lit room. They handed her an envelope detailing her next assignment.

 

* * *

 

Steve was waiting in the hotel room when she arrived. Pacing, to be precise. As soon as Peggy shut the door behind her Steve crossed the room, wrapping her up in his arms. She melted into his embrace.

 

She tilted her head back and their lips met, their kisses were desperate and open-mouthed, it felt like coming up for air. She had to remind herself to slow down, they had time. Peggy pulled away slightly, dragging her lower lip through her teeth as she rested her forehead against Steve’s. They were both breathing heavily.

 

“I missed you,” Steve murmured as his hands ran up and down her sides.

 

Peggy pushed him onto the bed and climbed on top of him, they shed their clothes between deep, heady kisses. She sighed in relief when she pressed her bare chest against his, the contact and the look of adoration on Steve’s face as he looked up at her had her aching for him.

 

She kissed her way down his body, revelling in every throaty groan and sigh she elicited from him. When she nipped the skin just below his belly button he seemed to come to his senses, moving to sit up.

 

“You don’t have to –”

 

“I want to,” she practically growled, taking him in hand.

 

She worked him over a little with her hands, enjoying the way his head tipped back and his jaw went slack. He was so wonderfully responsive to her touch, when she finally leant down and licked him from base to tip she thought he was about to tip over the edge. She took as much of him as she could into her mouth, his panting moans making warmth pool low in her stomach.

It wasn’t long before Steve was tapping her on the shoulder, clearly unable to string a coherent sentence together. She waved him off and carried on as he came undone under her touch.

 

When she’d teased the last ounces of pleasure out of him, she sat back on her heels. Wiping at her mouth, she looked down at him. Steve was boneless, panting, his eyes half lidded, and Peggy felt powerful, knowing her touch could thoroughly undo him.

 

He was unbearably beautiful. She splayed her hand low on his stomach, watching his chest rise and fall as he caught his breath.

 

Steve reached for her, moaning incoherently, and she went to him easily. He gently rolled her onto her side and spooned against her back, his hand rested on her stomach, slowly moving lower as his lips pressed a trail of kisses down her neck and along her shoulder.

 

Steve alternated between kisses and murmuring her name, he dragged her earlobe between his teeth just as his hand reached her clit. She rolled her hips against his hand, desperate and aching for his touch. Steve chuckled against her shoulder before picking up the pace.

 

He brought her close to the edge three times before, infuriatingly, easing off. When she was about to order him to finish properly, he parted her legs and slipped inside her. The feel of him filling her was exactly what she needed. She was too far gone to be embarrassed about the noises she was making as Steve’s hand went back to rubbing her while he started to thrust.

 

She fell apart with Steve’s mouth open and wet at the juncture of her neck and shoulder, his groans vibrating through her.

As she came back to her senses she noticed Steve’s hands were tracing over her skin gently, fingertips brushing over her hips, palm smoothing across her stomach. She felt sensitive all over, a moan escaped her lips as his hand reached her breast.

 

He carried on for a while, just touching, exploring. She reached back, hand skimming over his thigh, lingering on his hip. She thought he might doze off, before he moved, rolling her onto her back. His lips captured her nipple and as he sucked she felt herself begin throb for him again.

 

Steve, wonderfully in tune with her body, knew exactly what she needed. He scooted down to the foot of the bed and hooked her knee over his shoulder. It was hard to believe he’d done this for the first time only a few months ago, the things he was doing with his tongue were unbelievable.

 

He brought her to two earth-shattering peaks. Peggy was breathless, overwhelmed in the best way possible. She lay back against the pillows, her body felt limp, boneless, and slick with sweat.

 

“Breathe, Peggy,” Steve murmured, pressing a soft kiss between her breasts.

 

She breathed deeply and pulled Steve to her, craving him, still. She wanted him close and he seemed to feel the same, wrapping her up in his arms so they were touching as much as was physically possible.

 

* * *

 

They laid together in the hotel bed, dozing. Steve was conscious of the time, conscious of how painfully limited it was. As much as he wanted to just hold Peggy, he knew they had work to do if they wanted to make Peggy’s sacrifices worthwhile. He reached for the pen and pad of paper on the nightstand, handing it to Peggy, and she immediately understood, sketching a rough blueprint while he held her close.

 

“It’s far from complete, but I have an idea of where the exits are.” She pointed them out on the map. The facility was larger than Steve had expected, there were blank rooms and corridors that lead to nowhere, gaps that Peggy would have to try to fill in.

 

“Do you know where it is?”

 

She shook her head. “I’m trying to work it out from the length of the journey, the turns they take, but I think they take a round-about route.” Her brows furrowed together.

 

“Let me follow you back,” he whispered, pleading, “you led me to their base once.”

 

“I can’t, Steve. They won’t make that mistake again.” She shifted in his arms, looking pained. “Besides, if they catch sight of you, if they get any hint that they’re working together, it won’t end well.”

 

Steve understood, holding her tighter. He nodded, and put the pad back on the nightstand. It was a start.

 

Peggy’s eyelids fluttered closed again and Steve took a deep breath, steeling himself for the next question.

 

“How are they treating you?”

 

The shift in Peggy’s expression was barely perceptible. He waited, but she didn’t answer.

 

“Peggy?”

 

She rolled away from him, pushing his arms off of her, and his stomach sank.

 

“Is there anything I can –”

 

“Stop,” she warned without meeting his gaze.

 

Steve watched her cautiously as she stood and wrapped herself in a robe. She walked around to the side table, which was well stocked curtesy of Howard Stark, and poured herself a drink. Steve’s stomach was churning as her watched her, her denial confirming everything he’d feared.

 

Peggy took a few slow sips, leaning against the table, before returning to the bed. She sat down heavily, her back to Steve.

 

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to push.”

 

Peggy took another long sip, before holding out her hand. Steve took it like a lifeline.

 

“I’ll pass on as much information as I feel is necessary, anything that will be useful for this mission.” Her gaze was fixed on the bottom of the glass. “But I’m not going to discuss what’s being done to me. You’re not to ask me about it again, understood?”

 

She finally met his gaze, and he nodded.

 

Peggy downed the rest of her drink and placed the glass on the nightstand with a thud, before lying down next to him. She pressed her body against his and he didn’t hesitate, wrapping her up in his arms.

 

He had no idea how the hell he was going to keep letting her go, letting her walk back into the clutches of the people who had tortured her, broken her down, tried to strip away every inch of who she was. But if Peggy could find the strength to go back after everything she’d been through, he was damn well going to figure it out.

 

* * *

 

Peggy’s living conditions seemed to improve somewhat, after what she supposed they deemed a successful outing. She was given larger food portions, more time out of her cell, and a marginally thicker mattress. It was still paper thin and foul smelling, but it was definitely an improvement.

 

It lulled her into a false sense of security that lasted a few days, until she chucked up her breakfast one morning in the corner of her cell, and she remembered she couldn’t trust a damn thing they gave her. She tried to avoid the food as much as she could manage after that, but the nausea still came and went. As did the vomiting, despite her best efforts. Her only comfort was the look of disgust on the face of the guard sent in to clean up after her.

 

A few days passed before she was able to collect any new information. When she was allowed outside of her cell she walked the same routes, to the medical room, to the small, enclosed patch of grass outside, to the gymnasium. She’d already memorised the routes, taken note of the possible exits. Then one day she got lucky.

 

It was on the walk to the gymnasium. There was a commotion, guards running in the same direction, muffled shrieks. Peggy had suspected that she wasn’t the only one kept here, but it was another thing to have it confirmed. She kept her expression blank, putting one foot in front of the other. It wasn’t until they got closer that she heard the hushed whispers.

 

_“She’s resisting.”_

_“They always resist, we always succeed, one way or another.”_

_“This one is different.”_

_“That’s what they said about Carter, look at her now.”_

_A pause._

_“Still, let’s not take chances. I’ll arrange a message for Zola.”_

 

Zola.

 

Peggy’s stomach dropped. Zola’s pinched features crowded her thoughts, she saw him so clearly, leaning over her, saw that sickening smile as he congratulated her for another successful mission, saw him watching her from a distance as the shocks tore through her, saw his disgusted expression as she cried out, as if her cries were an exasperating inconvenience.

 

A thud against her back reminded her to keep moving, even though her feet felt heavy. She remembered now the role he’d played in her capture, out through the tunnels of the mountain while Steve was desperately searching through the burning rubble for her. She remembered how he’d led her torture from a careful distance.

 

But she also remembered Steve telling her that Zola had switched sides after the war, he was working for the US Government now. The nausea kicked in again. She needed to form a plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe we're already just a few chapters away from the end of this story, what are your thoughts?? I love reading your feedback! Feel free to come and talk to me on tumblr about it too!


	10. Chapter 10

Steve waited, alternating between sitting and standing as he listened out for the familiar sound of footsteps followed by the click of a key in the door. No matter how many times they met, Steve was still terrified she might not show, but then the lock clicked, the door handle turned, and Peggy practically fell into his arms.

 

He held her so tight, his nose pressed against her hair, breathing deeply.

 

“I love you,” he murmured as his lips kissed her temple. She mumbled a response and he leaned back to look at her properly.

 

There were dark circles under her eyes and her cheekbones seemed sharper, her cheeks slightly hollow. He tugged her hand gently, pulling her towards the bathroom.

 

Over the past few visits they’d fallen into a routine. They’d shower together first, giving him a chance to make sure they hadn’t hurt her, physically, at least. Then they’d make love, sometimes slowly, softly, if that’s what Peggy needed, or roughly, if she needed that kind of release. Then she would pass on any new information she had.

 

With the shower warming up, Steve began to undress Peggy, his fingers skimming gently over her skin. She sighed softly as his hands traced down her neck, across her shoulder, lifting her arm slowly. It was a soothing act for both of them, until he reached the crease of her elbow.

 

His heart clenched as he noticed the needle marks.

 

“They drew blood, that’s all.” Peggy sounded exhausted.

 

He looked up to meet her gaze.

 

“It’s nothing to worry about,” she reassured him.

 

He felt sick, but he cleared his features, nodding. He could deal with his fears later. He rid them both of their clothes and pulled Peggy into the shower, holding her close.

 

* * *

They made love slowly, first in the shower, then in bed. Peggy felt drained, but she desperately needed Steve’s comfort, losing herself in his embrace felt like coming home. They brought each other to multiple peaks, until finally Steve sat back against the headboard and pulled her into his lap, wrapping the sheets around her. His played with her hair until she dozed off.

 

Peggy didn’t sleep for long, despite how exhausted she was. When she started to stir, she felt Steve’s arms tighten around her and twisted to look up at him.

 

Looking at him properly, she noticed the stubble that peppered his jawline, longer than she’d seen it before. His features seemed harsher, sharper, and she knew he hadn’t been eating properly. He mostly likely hadn’t been sleeping well either.

 

She frowned, trailing her fingers along his jawline. Steve turned his head, pressing his lips to her fingers.

 

“I want you to promise me something,” she murmured.

 

“Anything,” Steve said, his voice painfully sincere.

 

She took a slow breath, before meeting his gaze. “If this doesn’t work out the way we’ve planned, I want you to move on.”

 

Steve opened his mouth to protest, hurt flashing across his face, but she carried on.

 

“I saw how you were living before, and I can’t bear the thought of you going back to that. Devoting your time to an organisation you can’t bear, refusing to try and meet anyone new.” She shook her head, blinking away tears. “I don’t want you pining after me, wasting your life away in that tiny apartment.”

 

Steve shook his head, his features set. “I’m not interested in a life without you.”

 

“Be reasonable, Steve.”

 

“I am being reasonable, you’re it for me.” The set of his jaw made it clear he was not prepared to negotiate. “I lost you once, and I’ll die before I let it happen again.”

 

“Always so bloody dramatic,” she muttered, leaning into his embrace. “You’re hopeless.”

 

Steve chuckled softly, his body shaking her. “Yeah, I love you too.”

 

* * *

 

They kissed slowly, lazily, for a long while. Hands exploring as they put off the inevitable. Peggy took a deep breath, taking comfort in Steve’s scent, steeling herself for the conversation they needed to have.

 

“I have an idea of where the base is.”

 

* * *

 

“You’re sure?”

 

Peggy looked over the map she’d annotated, double checking the route to the cross she’d drawn to mark the entrance.

 

“As sure as I can be.”

 

Steve nodded, his determination clear. “I’ll call the office.”

 

Peggy grabbed his arm before he could move. “There’s a catch.”

 

He looked uneasy.

 

“We need to wait until Zola is there.”

 

“Zola?”

 

Peggy took a shaky breath, running her hand through her hair. She relayed the information she’d pieced together about Zola and his involvement in her capture.

 

“He’s still working for Hydra. If we storm the base when he’s not there, he’ll slip away.”

 

Steve’s brows were pulled together, his breathing uneven. She knew him well enough to see the carefully contained anger boiling beneath the surface.

 

“Do you know how long?”

 

She shook her head.

 

He pulled her to him, wrapping her up in his arms, holding her like he never wanted to let go.

 

* * *

 

Steve’s apartment felt hollow without Peggy, like the warmth had been sucked out. He avoided it as much as possible, only returning to wash and sleep. He was heading out to the office to fill another day with research, looking for any information he could scrape together about Hydra, anything that would help with Peggy’s mission, when a knock on the door startled him.

 

Bucky and Morita stood in the doorway.

 

“Fellas,” Steve nodded, stepping aside to let them in.

 

Bucky started to follow Morita, but paused, taking Steve in. Steve tried for a reassuring smile, not that there was any point, Bucky has always been able to read him like a book.

Bucky clamped his hand on Steve’s shoulder, holding his gaze.

 

“You don’t have to do this on your own. We’ve all got Carter’s back.”

 

Steve nodded. “Thanks Buck.”

 

They talked over coffee. Morita asked a lot of questions about Peggy and the information she had collected so far, and Steve passed on everything he knew, promising to call them as soon as Peggy gave them the all clear to storm the base.

 

Morita slapped him on the back as he left. “We’re going to finish Hydra for good, if Peggy leaves any of them for us.”

 

* * *

 

Peggy wasn’t sure if it was the lack of stimulation or lack of sunlight, but she still felt a bone deep exhaustion despite managing to sleep through the night. Her routine followed the usual pattern, and as the guards led her to the medical room she tried to pick up on any signs of Zola’s arrival.

 

Seated on the cold, clinical exam table, she waited to be assessed. The distant screams that had begun to feel familiar seemed to bother the guard assigned to watch her. He shifted uncomfortably, glancing at Peggy before bolting for the door.

 

Alone. She was alone, outside of her cell for the first time since they’d brought her here. Her heart raced as she considered the possibilities. She had no idea how much time she would have, and she had no intention of letting it go to waste. She reached for her file, sitting on the table, and flicked through it.

 

Most of it was familiar, fortunately. There didn’t appear to be any new experiments they were running on her, nor any injuries she wasn’t aware of. She carried on reading, reaching the results of the blood test they’d run. She came to a stop half way down the page, and her veins felt like they’d been injected with ice.

 

Test for pregnancy (hCG): positive

Estimated at 8 weeks

 

The nausea, the exhaustion. The signs had been in front of her face and she’d ignored them. She felt unadulterated terror, she had walked back into Hydra’s clutches unknowingly bringing her unborn child with her. She needed to end this _now_.

 

* * *

 

Steve was in the office when the call came through. Peggy spoke evenly, but he could hear the barely contained terror just beneath the surface.

 

“It has to be now.”

 

* * *

 

They had the base surrounded, agents positioned at every entrance, Steve front and centre, flanked by two men as he approached the main entrance.

 

They gained entry without any problems and began their path through the maze of corridors. The base was eerily quiet, the walls and doors nondescript, but he had Peggy’s sketches in his mind. He followed her path, but came up against a brick wall.

 

They doubled back, running through the building and starting their route again. The only sound was their footsteps and unease began to settle low in Steve’s stomach. They hit another dead end and his heart began to race. Something was wrong.

 

Without warning a blast rattled the building, knocking Steve off his feet. He jumped back up, ears ringing, and began running, searching for the source. There was no sign of anyone, no guards, no prisoners. He pulled doors off their hinges only to find empty rooms.

 

As he got closer to the thick, black smoke he felt ice in his veins. This felt achingly familiar. He screamed Peggy’s name and heard nothing in response. He wasn’t going to lose her again. Not like this.

 

* * *

 

Peggy felt hands on her, wrapping around her arms, pulling at her, as sirens blared in the background, but she broke free with ease. She was out, racing down the corridor before they even had time to load the sedative into the syringe.

 

She found him hiding behind a frosted glass door. Zola. He smiled up at her, his expression gloating.

 

“Agent Carter,” he motioned to the seat in front of him.

 

Her name sounded foreign on his lips, he hadn’t referred to her by name in years, definitely never in here.

 

“There’s no point in getting comfortable,” she said, glancing at the chair. “I don’t intend to stay long.”

 

Zola leaned back in his chair, still smiling. She tried to ignore how much his pleasure unnerved her.

 

“I suppose you think your backup will be here soon?” He replied.

 

Peggy kept her expression neutral.

 

“Tell me, Agent, when you met the Captain and passed on information of our whereabouts, did you direct him to the facility you returned to after your little missions, or the place we took you to after our sedatives put you to sleep, our real headquarters, the place you’re standing in right now?”

 

Her heart hammered in her chest. He was lying, surely.

 

“It was painstaking work.” He sighed, shaking his head. “Every time you damaged your room, we had to recreate the exact same damage in your room at the other location, so you wouldn’t realise we were moving you.”

 

Peggy’s chest felt tight, like she couldn’t get enough air. Without warning, the sirens stopped, leaving a deeply unsettling silence.

 

“I’m afraid you’ve sent your Captain into a trap.”

 

Her hands balled into fists as she itched to tear him limb from limb. He’d been the cause of so much of her suffering, and when she finally thought she had the upper hand, she realised she’d been playing into his all along.

 

She looked down at him, burning with rage, and noticed his hand, partially hidden under the table, frantically pressing something. A call for assistance? He noticed her line of sight and sat forward, opening his mouth to speak.

 

“Did you know Schmidt wanted Captain Rogers? He was determined we could change him, but I fought for you instead. The Captain had already been changed, you however, were still human, you were weaker, pliable.” He chuckled.

 

“But with enough wit to have potential, and when I convinced Schmidt of the potential you had to weaken the Captain through his fondness for you,” he smiled, clasping his hands together, “he was convinced.”

 

Something inside her snapped, and she felt her body move before she made the conscious decision to do so. She threw him to the floor, watched as he scrambled to get up, and then she was on top of him, hands around his neck. His strangled shouts for the guards went unanswered, and his body went limp beneath her.

 

* * *

 

Peggy felt unhinged, desperate. She wandered the facility, causing what damage she could. She destroyed records, files, equipment, anything that could cause more pain if it fell into the wrong hands. If she couldn’t save herself, she could at least try to save others from the same fate.

 

She knew the guards would find her soon, every exit she knew of was blocked. The grief and confusion clouded her mind, grief for her child, for Steve. How had they all fallen into Hydra’s trap again?

 

An ear-splitting bang shook the walls, and she ducked, curling into a ball.

 

“Wahoo!”

 

The distant shout was painfully familiar, it took her a moment to place it. _Dugan._

 

She pulled herself to her feet, running through the dust and rubble, until she smashed into an unyielding mass.

 

“Peggy!” Dugan’s grin was warm as he wrapped her up in his arms, holding her so tight she could barely breath. She held him tight in return, biting back sobs.

 

“You left some for us, Carter?”

 

She took a deep breath, composing herself as she turned to face Morita. “A few, although I’m afraid I’ve already taken care of Zola.”

 

He nodded, saluting her, and the team began to scatter, guns raised. She turned to Dugan, still standing beside her.

 

“Where’s Steve?”

 

* * *

 

Steve tried to keep low, out of the smoke, as he tore through the rubble. Hands clamped around his arms and he lashed out, tearing himself free.

 

“Get out of here, Steve!”

 

Bucky’s voice threw him, but he didn’t stop.

 

“I’m not going without Peggy,” he yelled back. He carried on clearing the rubble from the blast, fear gripping at his chest.

 

Bucky grabbed at his shoulder. “She’s the one who sent us in here to get you, punk.”

 

* * *

 

Peggy shouldn’t have been at all surprised when she saw Steve running towards her. The only instruction she’d given Bucky was to get Steve out safely, she should’ve known he would insist on being brought to the real base.

 

Steve slowed as he approached, his eyes were glued to her, his chest heaving. The commandos moved away, some suddenly seemed preoccupied in their conversations, others needed a pat on the back from Dugan to get the hint. During the war they’d picked up a knack for knowing when she and Steve needed privacy.

 

As soon as Steve was in front of Peggy he dropped to his knees and wrapped his arms around her. He pressed his face to her belly as his shoulders shook. The solidity of him was so comforting, and she stroked her fingers through his hair as he sobbed.

 

“My darling,” she murmured.

 

Peggy shifted in his embrace, kneeling so they were face to face. She looked in Steve’s eyes and knew they were feeling the same relief. Their lips met in a hurried kiss, it was rough, biting, as they both desperately searched for reassurance.

 

When they finally pulled apart, foreheads resting together, cheeks wet, Steve’s arms tightened around Peggy. He seemed reluctant to let her move even an inch away from him.

 

“Are we done here?” He asked, he sounded exhausted.

 

“Almost.”

 

Peggy cupped Steve’s cheek, forcing him to meet her gaze. Her heart hammered as she tried to make her lips form her next sentence.

 

“I need to see a doctor, when we’re finished here.”

 

The blood drained from Steve’s face as his arms tightened around her. “You’re hurt?”

 

“No, not hurt.” She took a deep breath to steady her racing heart. “I’m pregnant, Steve, if Zola’s records are correct.”

 

Steve’s mouth popped open, but he didn’t immediately say anything. He just stared at her, eyes glassy.

 

“How do you feel about it?” He finally said.

 

His question stopped her short, she hadn’t had much time to consider her feelings on the matter, she’d simply accepted it for what it was.

 

“I’m not unhappy about it,” she said, and she realised how true the words were as the gravity of the situation dawned on her. She was carrying Steve’s child.

 

“Hey,” Steve shushed her, wiping at the tears on her cheeks. “You’re alright with it?”

 

He held her gaze, searching for something.

 

She nodded, smiling. “I’m better than alright.”

 

Steve seemed to find what he needed in her answer, because his lips curved into a beaming smile. He planted a noisy kiss on her cheek before pulling her into a crushing hug.

 

* * *

 

Dugan helpfully informed them that all the Hydra agents were either dead or captured, and most of the prisoners, those like Peggy, contained. All except the “screamer,” as he called her. Peggy had overheard enough during her time in the facility to know she wasn’t going to come easily.

 

They quickly established that Steve’s superhuman strength was needed, and although she couldn’t bear the idea of letting go of him just now, she knew they had no choice. Steve squeezed her hand, looking pained, before following the rest of the team.

 

* * *

 

Peggy waited with Pinky near the entrance to the base. Although she itched to help the team, the child she now knew she carried made her think twice. It was a slow and painful wait, but eventually she heard footsteps approaching.

 

Her relief was short lived when she called out and received no answer. Pinky approached tentatively, and just as he was out of sight Peggy heard a loud thump followed by the sound of a body falling to the floor. A woman rounded the corner.

 

“Well, well,” the woman said sweetly. “If it isn’t Zola’s favourite. Hydra’s shining trophy.” She bared her teeth in a forced smile.

 

“Are you another of their prisoners?” Peggy already knew the answer, the woman was dressed in a hospital gown.

 

“I’m Dottie. I’m not a prisoner anymore.”

 

“That’s right, we’re here to help you.”

 

Dottie laughed, throwing her head back. She sounded unhinged. “Is that why you’re putting us in cages?”

 

Peggy shook her head. “Hydra created them to cause harm, we need to keep them contained until we can get them help.”

 

“Us.” Dottie said calmly. “They created us to cause harm.”

 

“We’re capable of recovery.”

Dottie seemed to consider her words, canting her head to the side. “I never understood why Zola considered you better than the rest of us.” She spoke quietly, but there was a bite to her words.

 

As Peggy opened her mouth to reply, Dottie pounced. Peggy fought back, but Dottie was incredibly strong and brutal, her movements quick. They were an even match. Peggy dodged several blows, but Dottie was fighting to kill, and that gave her an advantage. With a resounding smack, Peggy’s head hit back the concrete wall behind her, and as she slid down the wall, her vision blurred and faded to black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I live for your feedback! What did you think of this chapter??


	11. Chapter 11

Peggy’s head was pounding as she came to, cradled against Steve’s chest. She curled into him, seeking his warmth as the cold night air hit her. They were outside, and Steve was walking quickly while doing his best not jostle her.

 

In the ambulance Steve stayed by her side, hunched over her protectively. His features were tight and he was quiet. She knew he was terrified.

 

* * *

 

The hospital was hectic and Peggy only remembered it in parts, afterwards. She remembered the doctor reassuring her there were no signs of miscarriage, telling her she had a concussion. She remembered a conversation with Bucky while Steve was elsewhere.

 

He told her how the commandos had kept tabs on Zola since the war, unable to trust his new allegiance after the months they’d spent cleaning up the horrors he’d left in his wake. They’d increased their surveillance after hearing about Peggy’s capture, realising Hydra was still spreading its tentacles, until Zola led them to the real base.

 

Bucky squeezed her hand, giving her time for his words to sink in. He told her how Steve had lost it after seeing her crumpled on the floor, and finally managed to subdue Dottie. Pinky was fine, Dottie was largely unharmed, the worst was over.

 

Still feeling disorientated, Peggy fell asleep.

 

Hours later she woke, her midsection too warm. She looked down and saw Steve, his head resting against her hip, arm draped across her. She watched the even rise and fall of his shoulders, noticed the redness around his closed eyes.

 

Slowly, she reached out a hand and placed it on Steve’s cheek. As she stroked her thumb back and forth he stirred, eyes blinking open, looking up at her.

 

“I love you,” she murmured.

 

She hadn’t planned to say it, but she was so tired, tired of being controlled, tired of hiding, tired of holding back. Steve was an anchor in her life, one of her few constants, and her love for him was one of the few things that was truly her own, something that even Zola couldn’t touch.

 

“I should have told you sooner.”

 

Steve shook his head, eyes wet. “I love you too.”

 

They stayed like that for a while, Steve sprawled across her, listening to the sound of each other’s breathing, until he broke the quiet.

 

“How do you feel?”

 

Peggy considered her answer before replying.

 

“I thought I’d feel relieved.”

 

“But you don’t?”

 

She stared up at the ceiling, feeling Steve’s eyes on her.

 

“I feel empty.”

 

Steve was quiet for a while, and when she finally met his gaze, he answered.

 

“It’s a lot to process.” He took her hand in his, kissing each knuckle, one by one. “But we have time, and we have each other.”

 

She blinked quickly, looking away, but tightened her grip on Steve’s hand.

 

Not much later, she noticed the time. It was in the early hours.

 

“Surely visiting hours are over?” She looked at Steve.

 

He shrugged, made an incoherent noise, then settled back down against her hip, and that was that.

 

* * *

 

Two months passed in a blur. Steve had taken a step back from his work, years of overtime and next to no social life had left him with enough savings to afford to take a break. Instead he focussed on looking for a new apartment, one with a second bedroom. Peggy didn’t talk about the baby much and she was evasive when Steve asked, so he didn’t push.

 

While Steve focused on settling their home life, Peggy threw herself into work. She was working with Howard and Philips to secure freedom for the rest of Hydra’s prisoners, but it wasn’t easy. The FBI wanted to make an example out of them after the murders they’d carried out under Hydra’s influence, and none of them had same connections or war record that Peggy had. They were unknowns.

 

Peggy’s work with the SSR to uncover Hydra seemed to grant her their trust, and so far they were holding up on the immunity deal. She was thriving in her new, if unofficial, role, and Steve had never been more proud of her. But he still worried.

 

At home she seemed withdrawn. He knew the wounds caused by what Hydra had done to her went deep, and he didn’t expect her to get over it any time soon, but he was at a loss. He didn’t know how to help her.

 

* * *

 

Peggy walked through the long corridor, her heels clicking on the hard floor. The crisp noise mixed with the muffled groans coming from the cells, they murmured her name with their cries. She was surprised by how much it felt like a prison, the rusted metal bars and rancid smell shocked her. It was worse than she remembered.

 

As she walked, avoiding the sunken eyes and weak pleas, she felt a presence behind her. Spinning on her heel she was met with Dottie, out of her cell and unguarded. Before she could even scream Dottie’s hands were on her, wrapped around her mouth and neck. Peggy thrashed, trying to free herself, but arms tightened around her. Dottie was repeating her name, murmuring it, soothing her.

 

Peggy felt a warm hand cup the back of her head, she breathed in the desperately familiar scent. Steve. She blinked, eyes opening to darkness. She was in Steve’s arms, in Steve’s bed. _Their_ bed.

 

“It’s alright, you’re safe.” His lips were at her temple, soft and soothing.

 

Peggy gulped in air, still reeling from the panic. Steve kept his arms around her, crushing her to him, and she grabbed at him, keeping him close as she wrapped her legs around him and buried her face in his neck. Steve rubbed his hand up and down her spine as her body trembled.

 

They stayed tangled together for a long time.

 

When the shaking finally subsided and she felt like she could breathe again, she pulled back and looked up at Steve. The creases between his eyebrows were deep.

 

“Another nightmare?” He asked.

 

Peggy nodded, feeling tears run down her cheeks.

 

“Are we doing the right thing, locking them up like animals?” Her voice was barely above a whisper.

 

Steve wiped at her cheek. “They’re not in cages, Peggy. They’re at a top medical facility, receiving advanced treatment.”

 

She shook her head. “But they have no say in any of it, no freedom.”

 

“I know.” Steve’s arms tightened around her.

 

Peggy knew it was necessary, she knew releasing them would put innocent people in danger, she knew that locking them up was a temporary measure until their treatment proved successful, but Dottie’s words still sat in her stomach like lead. She couldn’t bear the thought of becoming like her captors.

 

She felt Steve’s eyes on her, and turned her head to look at him.

 

“No one is working harder for their freedom than you are.” His voice was thick with emotion. “I’m so proud of you, Peggy.”

 

She blinked quickly, before pressing her lips to his. It was a soft kiss, wet with tears, but she found comfort in Steve’s lips and his embrace. He was her home.

 

Eventually they pulled apart and Peggy turned in Steve’s arms. He pressed against her back, nose at the nape of her neck, and as they moved to fit together his hand went to the growing curve of her belly.

 

There was a clear roundness to it now, though the bump was still small. She caught Steve glancing at her midsection often, though he looked away whenever she noticed. He asked her how she felt, what he could do to help, but they didn’t discuss the baby. Peggy knew that was her doing.

 

It terrified her. Their child was already so precious to her, so loved, it was too much to lose. She had no idea if Hydra had meddled in the pregnancy while she’d been their captive, and no idea what the combination of her and Steve’s altered genetics would create. It felt so vulnerable that she couldn’t bear to hope, she couldn’t afford want it because losing it would gut her.

 

* * *

 

When Steve met Peggy at the diner she was in high spirits, apparently there had been a breakthrough, one of the prisoners had recognised their sister and was coherent long enough to have a brief conversation. Peggy was beaming.

 

“Gee Peg, you look like the cat that got the cream,” their waitress said, “and I can see why.” She glanced at Steve before winking at Peggy.

 

“Oh, stop,” Peggy replied, nudging the waitress playfully.

 

 “What’ll it be, the usual?”

 

She nodded, then Steve ordered, and when the waitress left he turned to Peggy.

 

“You have a usual?”

 

Peggy gave a nonchalant shake of her head that felt so familiar, even though Steve couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen her so carefree. “It’s near the office.” She shrugged. “Angie’s friendly, warm, she doesn’t know my… history.”

 

Steve nodded, taking Peggy’s hand across the table.

 

“I’m glad you have a friend.”

 

Peggy’s usual was almost as large as Steve’s, but between them they still managed to wolf down a couple of extra sides that Angie brought over after watching them practically inhale their meals, as she put it.

 

It wasn’t until they were finished, sipping on hot drinks while they waited for their stomachs to free up some space for dessert, that Steve noticed the ring on Peggy’s left hand. He frowned, and Peggy followed his gaze.

 

“It would set tongues wagging, an unwed mother-to-be. This avoids a lot of invasive questions,” Peggy said, taking a sip of her tea.

 

It made sense, Steve knew that, but for some reason he wasn’t crazy about the idea.

 

“Besides, I’ll just replace it with the real one when we get married and nobody will be any the wiser.”

 

Steve’s jaw dropped just a little before he had the sense to slam it shut.

 

Peggy’s brow furrowed. “We are getting married eventually, aren’t we?”

 

His mind went to the small, velvet box in his sock drawer. “Well… I, I was hoping, I was waiting for the right time to…”

 

“Oh,” Peggy smiled, patting Steve’s hand. “Well in that case, forget I said anything.”

 

* * *

 

 

The breakthrough with one of the victims gave Peggy hope. It was a kind of hope that spread through her like a warm drink on a bitter cold day, warming all aspects of her life. For the first time she brought up the topic of the nursery with Steve. He seemed taken aback, but was eager to keep the conversation going. They discussed colour schemes – Steve wanted bright yellow, Peggy preferred a pale peach shade – they agreed they ought to buy a cot, and Peggy insisted on a chair to nurse in.

 

After their discussion Steve seemed so light, so happy, and Peggy realised he’d been holding back for her sake. He still didn’t push the topic of the baby, but whenever she brought it up, he lit up.

 

* * *

 

The next few months were chaotic. They found a two-bed apartment that was in their price range, a reasonable distance from the office, and got to work moving in. Steve finally proposed in an intimate moment one evening, surrounded by cardboard boxes and a mess of second-hand furniture. She’d interrupted his speech to say yes, laughing and kissing his cheeks, and he’d insisted on finishing what he’d prepared before carefully placing the ring on her finger. Then he’d pulled her into his arms and they’d danced slowly to the crooning wartime tunes on the wireless.

 

They got married as soon as they could obtain the license. It was an intimate ceremony, with Bucky and Angie as their witnesses, followed by a knees-up with the Commandos. Peggy couldn’t keep her hands off Steve and he clearly felt the same way. It was blissful, to be practically on Steve’s lap, his hand running up and down her side while she squeezed his thigh, as their friends got roaring drunk around them. Their bliss seemed to spread throughout the room, and it was a night of side-splitting laughter and tight embraces.

 

In amongst the raucous that felt so comfortably familiar, Peggy and Steve’s eyes met. He wore the dreamy smile she was becoming increasingly familiar with. As he pulled her closer, taking a deep breath at the nape of her neck, his hand went to her rounded belly, spreading his fingers, warm and protective.

 

“I love you,” he murmured, lips against her ear. “Both of you.”

 

Peggy smiled, light with joy. “We love you too,” she said, pressing her lips to the hollow under his ear, “ _husband._ ”

 

The way Steve shivered in response was incredibly satisfying.

 

* * *

 

Peggy looked painfully uncomfortable, as she did most days. She was still a month off her due date, but Steve couldn’t see how the baby could possibly have room to grow any bigger. They were already sitting on Peggy’s bladder and stretching up into her ribcage, leaving her constantly out of breath as her lungs struggled for space.

 

She frowned, reaching a hand around to rub her back while Steve grabbed another pillow. He placed it where she needed the support, amongst the large number of carefully arranged pillows that were already propping her up, and as Peggy leaned back, sighing, Steve sat on the end of the sofa and pulled her feet into his lap, massaging them one at a time.

 

“Do you want me to run you a bath?”

 

“I’m alright just now.” Peggy groaned as his fingers worked over her swollen ankles.

 

“Something to eat?”

 

“I’m becoming incredibly spoilt, I hope you realise,” she said as her eyelids fluttered closed.

 

“Oh well,” Steve said blandly.

 

He carried on for a while, smiling at her quiet sighs, until Peggy winced, shifting suddenly. She rubbed the side of her belly, air hissing through her teeth.

 

“She won’t let me rest.”

 

Steve raised an eyebrow. “She?”

 

“Yes, she.” Peggy leant back against the pillows.

 

“I’ve been wanting to talk to you about something,” Steve said, as his hands began to work their way up her calves.

 

“Mm?”

 

He swallowed, suddenly nervous. “I’m planning to hand in my resignation.”

 

“Is that so?” Peggy sounded unconcerned, her eyes still closed.

 

“Yeah, I…” He took a deep breath, looking down at her legs in his hands. “What you said about me devoting my time to an organisation I can’t bear, it wasn’t completely untrue.”

 

She shifted, but he carried on.

 

“With you back, I’ve started to realise how many aspects of my life were just a distraction, I was just going through the motions, doing what was expected of me,” he paused, steeling himself. “Doing what I thought would make you proud.”

 

Peggy reached out, wrapping her hand around his arm.

 

“But I’m not a spy.”

 

Peggy laughed. “I could’ve told you that.”

 

They sat together quietly for a moment, listening to the muted tones coming from the programme on the wireless.

 

“Do you have any idea what you’d like to do?” Peggy asked after a while.

 

“No, but I figure there’s plenty to keep me busy for the time being.” He glanced at her belly before meeting her gaze. “I hear babies are a lot of work.”

 

“Oh, really? I hadn’t heard.” She replied airily, before taking Steve’s hand in hers and kissing it softly.

 

When she let go he placed it on her belly, his thumb rubbing in soft circles. Peggy placed her hand over his and moved it across the peak of her belly, coming to rest on the side. He felt the muted thumps as their baby wriggled.

 

“I need you here, she won’t listen to me.”

 

Steve chuckled, and got to work with soothing murmurs and gentle pats.

 

* * *

 

The labour was difficult for Peggy in a way the pregnancy hadn’t been. Lying in a creaky metal hospital bed, the smell of disinfectant hitting the back of her throat while men in white coats stood over her, discussing her, as she screamed in pain. It was too much, too similar, her mind flooded with painful memories.

 

Her body was in control of her and she felt overwhelmingly vulnerable. So she lashed out, scared and in excruciating pain. Steve stayed, solid at her side, and took whatever words and shoves she aimed at him. Even when the nurse offered him a comfortable seat in the waiting room, he refused with a look of confusion on his face, as though he couldn’t grasp the idea of being anywhere other than by her side.

 

After a long labour their daughter was finally born, red and screaming. Peggy’s head was foggy, but the screams pierced through, filling her mind completely until the infant was placed on her chest, warm skin against Peggy, and she finally started to settle.

 

They had a moment together before she was whisked away, and the ear-splitting screams started the second she was no longer in contact with Peggy’s skin. She sobbed, trying to reach for her daughter despite the pain that tore through her body when she moved. Steve tried to calm Peggy, looking terrified as she cried out, her chest heaving, while the doctor explained that Peggy would need stitches.

 

When she was coherent enough to agree, they didn’t waste any time in patching Peggy up, but she still felt painfully out of sorts. The only thing that stopped her from kicking the doctor in the face was Steve’s lightning fast reaction, grabbing her leg before any more damage could be done.

 

As soon as they’d finished they placed her daughter back on her chest, and the two of them were placated. She tugged on Steve, urging him onto the edge of the bed, and he wrapped his arms around them both. He was shaking just slightly, but when she turned to look up at him, he beamed at her.

 

Steve kissed her forehead soundly, and she felt the wetness on his cheeks as he rested his face against hers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the encouragement so far! I hope the wait wasn't too long after that cliffhanger :)


	12. Chapter 12

They settled on the name Sarah. Sarah Margaret Rogers. She was perfectly healthy, with a strong set of lungs and an appetite to rival her parents’. She didn’t like to be anywhere other than on her mother, and while Steve was certainly better than any friend who dared hold her, he was still only a mildly bearable alternative to Peggy.

 

As Steve worked on the nursery Peggy settled down, unbuttoning her blouse as Sarah began rooting. She cuddled her daughter against her chest as she latched on, her tiny hands in fists by her face.

 

Peggy still felt angry and violated when she thought about the years Hydra had stolen from her, the pain they’d caused both her and Steve, but looking at her daughter, her jaw working as she nursed, the pain felt lessened, muted. She had someone else to focus on now, someone who demanded her full attention.

 

Caring for a newborn left little time for much else, but as exhausted as she was, the distraction helped. Every muscle and every bone in her body felt heavy with exhaustion, and she hadn’t fully recovered from the labour. It pulled at her fears, the feeling of being at the mercy of her own body, but as she looked into Sarah’s warm brown eyes that exactly mirrored her own, and smoothed back the tuft of soft, fair hair, she had something solid to hold onto. Her daughter represented hope.

 

* * *

 

They still hadn’t got around to building the crib, having agreed Sarah would sleep in a bassinet in their room for the first few months to make the night feeds easier. The bassinet had been a gift from Peggy’s parents, who were dealing with the shock of their daughter’s sudden reappearance by sending extravagant gifts. But Steve figured at the rate Sarah was eating, it wouldn’t be long before she outgrew it, so he got to work.

 

As he hammered away at the wooden pieces, he still felt an overwhelming sense of bliss. He kept waiting for it to burst, waiting for reality to hit, but it didn’t. This was his reality now, a life with Peggy and their family.

 

A few mishaps and muttered curses later, Steve emerged from the nursery, proud of his craftmanship, to find Peggy nursing Sarah. It was a sight he still wasn’t used to, and it hit him like a truck, warmth coursing through his body. Peggy watched Sarah with heavy eyelids, she held their daughter protectively and as she smoothed back Sarah’s soft hair, adoration spread across her features.

 

Their fussy daughter was only truly content when she was pressed against Peggy’s warm skin, which seemed perfectly reasonable to Steve. Peggy brought him a sense of comfort that nothing else could, and he felt proud him to share that feeling with their daughter.

 

As though sensing his presence, Peggy looked up and met his gaze. She took him in, tilting her head to the side with a warm smile, before she motioned for him to join her. He did, without hesitation. Careful not to jostle them, he sat down, wrapping an arm around Peggy as he pressed a hard kiss to her temple.

 

Peggy watched him for a moment before breaking the quiet.

 

“Are you alright?”

 

Steve blinked, confused, and then felt the wetness in his eyes and on his cheeks.

 

He shook his head, trying to find the words. “It’s not… I’m not sad. It’s the opposite.”

 

Peggy frowned, looking unconvinced.

 

He tried to think of a way to describe his overwhelming sense of relief, but all he could think of were the nights when he’d laid in bed as the crushing weight of Peggy’s loss threatened to drown him, of the devastating guilt that had engulfed him when his mind forced him to picture the future Peggy should’ve had, the one his recklessness had stolen from her.

 

He’d felt the depth of that emptiness and anger, he’d watched Peggy fight for her memories, her life, her future, and now he watched her, content and sleepy in the apartment they shared, nursing their healthy daughter.

 

“I’m _so_ happy,” he said, and even though his voice shook, Peggy smiled as understanding spread across her features.

 

Her head dipped, resting on his shoulder, and they sat wrapped up in each other’s warmth, listening to the soft sniffs and grunts their daughter made as she fed.

 

* * *

 

Peggy pulled the pins out of her hair, watching it fall to her shoulders in the bathroom mirror. As Sarah had grown she’d warmed to Steve considerably, and that left Peggy with a fraction more time for herself. Although Sarah had mellowed a little, she was still a fussy baby, which suited Steve down to the ground. He loved any excuse to shower her with affection.

 

Peggy’s skin was still warm from her bath, so she opted to forgo her nightgown, instead picking up her thin, silk robe and wrapping it around herself. As she tied the knot at her waist, Steve entered the bathroom, pulling his undershirt over his head.

 

He stripped, noted Peggy’s raised eyebrow at the pile of clothes on the floor, and quickly threw them in the laundry basket before jumping in the shower.

 

“Did you manage to get her down?” She asked as he showered.

 

“Eventually, yeah.” He reached for the soap. “We’ll see how long it lasts, but right now, she’s asleep in her crib, in her own room.”

 

Peggy smiled, Sarah was as stubborn as her father, so trying to get her to sleep in her own room when she had entirely different ideas was a constant challenge. One that Steve seemed determined to face head on.

 

“She’s a handful,” Peggy noted.

 

“She takes after her mother,” Steve retorted, but his comment wasn’t without a touch of fondness.

 

Peggy watched him in the mirror, the way the spectacular muscles of his back moved as he washed had her aching for him. It had been months since Sarah’s birth and Peggy had had more than enough time to heal, but caring for an infant left them with little time for themselves, let alone each other.

 

As Steve turned, beautifully nude, he caught her gaze in the mirror. She dragged her bottom lip through her teeth with purpose, and took the blush that warmed across his cheeks and chest as all the encouragement she needed. She turned to face him, and very slowly ran her hand over her breast, down her front until she reached the knot at her waist. She untied it and let the robe fall open, revealing the bare skin underneath.

 

Steve was out of the shower in seconds, his wet body pressed to hers as he crowded her in a way that set her pulse racing. As they kissed, needy biting kisses, she felt Steve, hard already against her hip. It had been too long and she was glad to know he was as desperate as she was.

 

Peggy was torn between wanting to savour the moment, and wanting to frantically loose herself in him right then and there. With a sleeping baby she knew time was precious, so she opted for the latter. She extracted herself from Steve’s embrace, despite his protests, and shed herself of her robe, turning to discard it. Steve pressed against her bare back and she looked up, thrilled at the feel of him. Their eyes locked in the mirror, and the hunger on his face made her shiver in anticipation.

 

Steve wrapped himself around her, his warm fingers spreading down her stomach, down to where she really needed him, and started working her over. She melted into him as pleasure washed over her, letting herself get lost in the way his fingers worked her, knowing exactly how to build her up, then back off just before she reached her peak. It was maddening, and she paid no mind to the noises she was making.

 

“ _Peggy_.” Steve sounded like he was holding on by a thread.

 

She groaned, low and needy, she was _so_ close.

 

“You’ll wake...”

 

She saw his eyelids flutter closed in the mirror, though his fingers didn’t let up. She felt seconds away from crying out, and she knew he hand a point. She took his hand that cupped her breast, not wanting to interrupt the rhythm his other hand had picked up, and pulled it to her mouth.

 

Steve’s eyes snapped open. She moaned into his hand and that seemed to encourage him. He kept his hand pressed to her mouth, muffling her groans, as he brought her closer and closer to the edge. She finally peaked, falling apart in his arms, and her teeth scraped against his palm as she cried out against his skin.

 

He rubbed her slowly, teasing the last drops of pleasure out of her, as she tried to regain control over her slack body. Steve’s hand left her mouth and he wrapped his arm around her waist, holding her to him as she panted, her head tipped back against his shoulder.

 

“ _Fuck_ , Peggy.” He cursed under his breath, his lips at her ear.

 

“I wish you would,” she goaded, although the way her voice wobbled rather dampened the effect.

 

He chuckled as he turned her in his arms and backed her against the wall. Their kisses were lingering, slower, now that they were partially satisfied. Steve was still desperately hard, and his hips pressed against her making his need clear.

 

She lifted her leg until her knee was at his hip, and Steve caught on, spreading his warm hand under her thigh. In one quick movement he grabbed her other leg, lifting her as she grabbed his shoulders for support. Steve grunted, his breath coming in quick puffs against her neck as she took him in hand. He was able to give her enough leverage so she could guide him in, and then she sank down slowly, taking him in.

 

She savoured the feeling of him, slick and warm inside her, before his hips started to move. As he drove into her, gripping her tightly, she felt her own desire starting to pool. She moaned, murmuring his name in his ear, begging him to come for her. It was thrilling to watch the effect her words had on him.

 

As he got closer and closer to the edge, Peggy got louder, unable to stop herself. Steve’s visible shivers as she groaned in his ear were sending her wild. She was sure he was about to tell her to stop, but instead he loosened his grip on one of her legs, pulling his hand away just slightly, experimentally, until he was sure she wasn’t going to fall.

 

His thrusts only faltered for a moment, and while his hips rolled against her his free hand cupped her cheek. He led her head down until her lips were on his shoulder, and she understood what he wanted. She opened her mouth and groaned against his skin. The sound was muffled enough to placate Steve, and the sensation seemed to spur him on.

 

He drove into her and as she moaned, deep and throaty against his skin, his body went rigid. She carried on as his release washed over him, his thrusts becoming more jerky. She would never tire of seeing him like this, so beautifully undone in her arms.

 

As Steve came down from his high he leant against her, their bodies damp with sweat, chests heaving together. Peggy brushed her fingers through his hair and pressed a kiss to his temple.

 

“Inventive,” she said.

 

Steve turned his head and noticed the wet, pink teeth marks on his shoulder. He shivered, pushing her further into the wall.

 

When he’d regained his senses he gave her enough leverage to extract herself from him, and she stood, holding him as she steadied herself. He seemed unwilling to go without touching her, now that they were drunk on the feel of each other, and kept his hands on her, brushing up and down her sides.

 

In an easy movement Steve lifted her into his arms, and she was content to wrap her arm around him and rest her head against his as he carried her to the bedroom.

 

He placed her on the bed and then spread out beside her, as she moved to press her body against his. They weren’t in as much of a rush this time, so they took their time kissing, touching, holding each other as their desire slowly began to build again.

 

When Peggy started to feel Steve getting harder against her hip, she rolled him onto his back. She worked him over until he was hard in her hand, and then climbed on top of him, sinking down slowly onto his length until he filled her completely.

 

Steve stared up at her, dreamy and heavy lidded, and the adoration on his features caused warmth to spread through her, pooling low in her stomach. As she began to roll her hips against him, he lifted his hand, still in a daze, and found her clit with ease.

 

Her nails dug into his shoulders as he drew more pleasure out of her, but that only seemed to encourage him. His other hand bit into her hip, urging her on, and it didn’t take them long to find their next release. Peggy cried out, making an effort to keep her voice low as she felt Steve stiffen beneath her.

 

He felt incredible inside her, touching her, moaning her name, it was all too easy to come for him. Her right partner.

 

With a final groan she pulled herself off of him, revealing in his quiet sigh. She fell, ungracefully, on top of him, and he wrapped her up in his arms.

 

Steve was usually quiet afterwards, too overwhelmed and exhausted to be talkative, but not tonight. His hand stroked up and down her spine as he murmured in her ear, telling her about all the ways he loved her.

 

Peggy was dozing by the time Steve started to readjust them, and she was content to let him hold her, pulling the covers around them as he turned her on her side and settled against her back.

 

She stretched, enjoying the dull ache in her muscles.

 

“It’s been so long since I was thoroughly fucked,” she sighed.

 

Steve laughed low in her ear as his body shook against her.

 

“I’m glad I could be of service.”

 

She reached behind to pat his hip. “Yes, you did very well, darling.”

 

As she settled into his embrace, his hand reached around and came to rest above her heart. She smiled as she traced patterns across the back of his hand, feeling ridiculously happy.

 

“Do you really feel it beating?” She murmured.

 

He likely sensed her teasing tone.

 

“Go to sleep,” he replied, kissing the back of her head.

 

* * *

 

It took a while to get Sarah fed and dressed and out of the house, but together they managed it. They were experimenting with solid food now, which meant constantly finding mashed pieces of food in her hair and on her clothes.

 

She didn’t like the pram, because it meant she had no physical contact with either of her parents, so she screamed until Steve relented and picked her up. Steve avoided Peggy’s gaze as she rolled her eyes.

 

The journey to Howard’s wasn’t long, so Sarah was still full of energy when they arrived. She babbled as Jarvis led them through to the reception area. The room was empty, which she suspected Howard had intended, it allowed him to make an entrance, despite being the host.

 

It felt like decades since she’d last been in this room, when she and Steve had come here, desperate for help. So much had changed.

 

Not one to disappoint, Howard burst into the room wearing his smoking jacket, martini in hand. He stopped in front of Peggy and squinted at Sarah, who was wriggling in Steve’s arms.

 

“That one’s yours?”

 

Peggy was already exasperated. “Who else’s would she be?”

 

“She was half the size the last time I saw her, what, two weeks ago?”

 

“Five months ago,” Peggy corrected.

 

He waved his hand as though it was inconsequential. “Let’s get down to business.”

They pulled out their chairs while Steve paced, bouncing Sarah on his hip. She was babbling incoherently, but Steve looked enthralled, nodding as she spoke.

 

“Is that so?” He replied, as though she’d just finished a sentence.

 

Howard sat heavily in his seat, pulling a cigar out of his pocket.

 

“Do you really understand her, or are you just humouring her?” Howard asked.

 

“She makes a hell of a lot more sense than you do,” Steve retorted.

 

As Howard reached for his lighter, sat on the table between them, Peggy plucked the cigar out of his hand and threw it across the room.

 

“Hey!”

 

“Not around the baby,” she warned.

 

He grumbled before sitting back in his seat.

 

“Why did you ask us here?”

 

Howard got to it. “The SSR wouldn’t have succeeded in bringing down Hydra and capturing the rest of their prisoners if it wasn’t for you and the Commandos, and that’s widely known. They were after you for months, while you were right under their nose.”

 

Peggy sat back as she tried to gage Howard’s angle. “What’s your point?”

 

“It’s an ineffective organisation.”

 

She didn’t disagree.

 

Howard took a long sip of his drink. “There are murmurings it’s going to get chopped up and sold for parts.”

 

“And that involves us?” Steve prompted.

 

“It needs to be taken over by someone who knows what they’re doing, someone with a little more... pizzazz.”

 

Peggy rolled her eyes, she could see where this was going.

 

“You want us to work for you?”

 

Howard downed the last of his drink and called for Jarvis to bring him another.

 

“I lead a busy life, I need a number two,” he looked over at Steve, “and three, who I can trust.”

 

As Jarvis brought in Howard’s drink on a tray, along with a pot of tea, Peggy mulled over his suggestion.

 

Freshly replenished, Howard raised his glass. “What do you say, Peg?”

 

“I agree, the SSR has rather run off course, but I don’t think new management is the solution.”

 

Howard looked petulant.

 

“The SSR has lost track of what it’s fighting for,” she continued. “Perhaps the best we can do is start over.”

 

She felt Steve’s eyes on her and she turned her head to meet his gaze. He looked proud.

 

“Start over?” Howard asked.

 

“We create a new organisation.” As she said the words, her resolve solidified. The SSR was failing, and something had to fill the gap. “We’ll head it together.”

 

The thought of getting back to work sent a thrill through her, she hadn’t realised how much she’d missed it until the opportunity was presented to her.

 

Steve came to stand behind her, placing his hand on her shoulder.

 

A smile spread across Howard’s face. “I’m in.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who left comments on this, comments are what encourage me to keep writing. I hope the last chapter ended it well, I'd love to know everyone's thoughts! Please feel free to come and talk to me about it on tumblr too.


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